Cats & Dogs
by Thetypewronger
Summary: Her world has been flipped upside down, on its side and all over again. In a world of supernatural creatures, immeasurable powers, and war, Bella must learn to accept that she was never meant for normal. In the midst of it all is self-discovery, love, and destiny. AU story adopted. Third Place (Bronze) Winner of the 2013 Non-Canon Award for Best Bella/Pack Member!
1. The Cafeteria Incident

**A/N **Taking my first-ever stab at writing a fanfic after discovering this gem of a story by ffn author, **violet eyed dreamer**. She graciously allowed me to adopt her unfinished story, and is helping me out along the way with some rockin' beta skills. Please, please review!

* * *

**Chapter One**

* * *

It was late – approaching midnight – when the muffled sounds of Charlie's snores bled through my bedroom walls.

_Finally. _

Anxiety had settled heavily upon me, and I had nearly worn a hole in the floor with my pacing for well over an hour; I was itching to get of this house.

_Sneak out. _I frowned at the correction from my guilt-ridden conscience.

The police chief's hormonal and flaky adolescent daughter sneaking out in the middle of the night – a scene worthy of its own after-school special, and likely much hilarity among my friends.

Images danced in my mind of the typical teenage shenanigans found in books: Concerts. Dancing. Kissing. Drinking. Touching. Sex.

_If only. _

Seventeen years old, and I had yet to discover the book wherein the police chief's teen daughter was secretly supernaturally duty-bound to fulfill a destiny she was sure was never intended for a severely shy bookworm type.

And, of course, she must engage in sneaking out of her father's house in the middle of the night to do so.

No such book had ever come across my path. And I read an awful lot of books.

Atypical: Isabella Swan, in a nutshell.

* * *

September 13, 2000

Too scrawny, too pale, too homely, too clumsy.

The epitome of awkward at twelve years old, nothing could have prepared me for the world, as I knew it then, to be flipped completely upside down. I woke on the morning of the September 13th with a start, and in a cold sweat, certain that someone had called my name. Frozen, I strained to quiet my startled panting and listened for the voice which had wanted my attention to repeat itself. _Silence._ Clearly I had imagined it.

The fuzzy red numbers of the alarm clock on my bedside table told me I could potentially steal another half hour of sleep, but the rapid and heavy hammering in my chest was having none of that. Yawning deeply, I threw back my comforter, hauled myself away from the delicious warmth of my bed, and half-consciously padded down the hall to the bathroom. Without so much as a glimpse in the mirror, I undressed and drowsily stepped into the soothing warmth of the shower. Limbs feeling heavy and head feeling cloudy, I was on auto-pilot, I began my morning routine out of habit and instinct.

_Shower, brush teeth, fight with hair, dress, breakfast, wake Renee, hope to get to school on time. _

Agitated and anxious, something was tickling just at the back of my mind. As I lathered the strawberry-scented shampoo through the bird's nest that was my morning hair, my thoughts fell upon the dream from which I had awakened.

_Clouds draped low in a night sky. A rustling sound - wind in the leaves. The warm scent of sandalwood, freshly cut grass, and earth tickled my nostrils. Utterly… home. I ran toward it - faster than I thought possible. Desperate. Searching. Running. A battlefield. A gust of wind. Something at my legs - two cats circled my ankles. The copper scent of blood laid thick in the air here. Slain soldiers rose from their bleeding bodies. Drops of liquid gold on fingertips. Tears. I ran. Trees touched the sky – a forest. Rain. Cold. Daisies beneath my feet. A wolf. Warmth. Sandalwood. Freshly cut grass. Earth. Home. An elderly man, thick-bearded and one-eyed. I ran. The scent escaped me. Home escaped me. Cold. – _

"Crap!"

The dream was momentarily forgotten as shampoo slithered its way down my scalp, over my forehead, and straight into my eyes, where it licked like strawberry-scented flames. Twenty minutes later, I succeeded in removing the last bits of the offending shampoo from my eyes and stepped out of the shower on a mission to finish getting ready for school.

Somewhere between toothpaste and tangled hair, the significance of it being the 13th day of the ninth month of the year 2000 dawned on me, and as the fresh realization pounded into me with all the force of a freight train, my reflection in the bathroom mirror paled.

_My 13__th__ birthday_.

Birthdays never were really my thing, even as a small child. Birthdays meant people fussing over you, drawing unwelcome attention to you. But this birthday was _special_. People make an especially big deal on a girl's 13th birthday, for reasons still lost on me.

And Renee being… well, Renee, I could only imagine the many tortures that were in store for me that day, and my imagination always was rather lacking when it came to my mother's antics. I finished dressing myself, appreciative that it was a Wednesday, and that most of that offending day would be expended at school. Unless, of course, Renee deemed the occasion skip-worthy. It would only take one phone call from her claiming that I had a cough and a bit of a fever. If I had to guess what my mother's version of paradise was, surely it would be a mother-daughter shopping spree.

Important, life-altering decisions hanging in the balance; like which shade of eye shadow made my eyes pop the most, and whether or not I should get a padded bra - never mind my disinterest in make-up and absolute lack of the necessary attributes for a bra.

I opted to skip breakfast that morning, and chose to forfeit my ride to school in favor of walking and not having to wake my mother. I left three notes for her, deliberately placed so that she absolutely _had to_ see at least one of them, detailing my need for self-reflection as my motive for walking to school. _She'll eat that excuse right up, _my eyes shot to the ceiling at the thought.

To my great relief, my birthday was wholly unrecognized at school.

The morning, for the most part, passed much the same as any other. However, by 11 o'clock I felt on the brink of starvation. With another hour before my lunch period, it was all I could do to remain in my seat. I cringed at the audible snickers from my peers as my stomach violently gurgled and growled. Flames engulfed my face, my crimson blush relieving any person's uncertainty over the source of the horrific sounds. I shrank as much of myself as possible into my desk, wishing very much that I could just disappear. The very instant the bell rang, I did just that – out of my seat and out of that classroom faster than I thought my skinny legs could carry me.

Even my immense embarrassment over what had happened in the classroom could not rival my hunger. It was no small miracle that I not only found the cafeteria – I never had the appetite for school food, opting instead to spend those daily 40 minutes in the library – but that I managed to do so without tripping, stumbling, tumbling, or falling. I made my way through the lunch line, handed over my cash, and feasted greedily on the most gloriously delicious sausage pizza, peas, mixed fruit, chocolate chip cookie, and white milk my mouth had ever experienced. Ten minutes later, and not a single crumb left on my tray, my stomach was not sated. I returned to the lunch line where I expected I might get seconds. Wrong.

Instead of seconds, I shuffled my way into the principal's office, head down and face veiled behind a curtain of my hair. Warily peering through, I was greeted with a warm smile and a wave toward a chair placed in front of his desk. I sat, filled with shame and shock and humiliation.

"Well, now, Miss Swan, what can I do for you today, hm?" His voice, like coffee, was smooth and warm. A constant on the honor roll, I had been recognized countless times by the principal. He hadn't even bothered to look at the yellow slip of paper I'd handed him – my disgraceful behavior toward the cafeteria worker detailed in scribbled black ink by my English teacher, who was undoubtedly disappointed in me.

I bit hard on my bottom lip, attempting to prevent the hot tears that had pooled in my eyes from spilling over. I failed abysmally.

"Um… uh… well – I… I… I-I was just s-s-so hun-n-gry," the words that fell from my mouth were hardly distinguishable from the sobs.

An hour of incoherent sobs later, my mother was called to retrieve her hysterical daughter from school. My outburst in the cafeteria, which had ended in the lunch lady's tears, was chalked up to hormones, the word "teenager" being tossed around repeatedly. Being such a good student, and having stayed entirely off the radar until that point had its perks. I wasn't punished at all, save for a required apology letter to the cafeteria worker.

Ashamed, confused, and disturbed by my own behavior, I slinked away from my mother when she draped an arm around me in a soothing motion. What I had done was not okay, and I didn't want her to downplay it or make excuses on my behalf. We rode home in an awkward silence, my mood only further darkening each time I felt Renee's worried gaze fall on me.

By the time we pulled up to the house, I was unjustifiably annoyed. Ripping out of the car, I slammed the door closed just as my mother had started to speak to me. Annoyance transformed into anger – anger toward the portions served at lunch, toward the lunch lady, the principal, my mother, her car, the oppressive Arizona heat, my birthday, life, the world. Stalking toward the door, my hands began to shake as the anger became physical. The same had happened in the cafeteria.

I stomped into our house, leaving my gaping mother still sitting in the car, and went straight to the bathroom to lock out the world and wash away my rage in the shower. Only when the hot water had completely disappeared did I pull myself from the security of the shower. I toweled off and hastily retreated to my bedroom and the comfort of my well-worn sleep shorts and one of Renee's old concert t-shirts. _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_ was sitting on my bedside table, half-read. I had a brief internal argument over whether or not I wanted to read just then, eventually settling in my bed to watch television instead. Political coverage lulled my heavy eyes and mind into dreamless sleep.

My stomach woke me – all gurgles, growls, and pain. Checking the clock, I supposed I must have slept for five or six hours. I contemplated never leaving my bed again, and was all set to stay put when my stomach protested again. With a grunt, I forced myself up and out of the warm confines of my mattress. It was dark outside, and I guessed it must have started to cool off since steam was rolling off the pavement of the street. I flicked on my lamp and assessed my reflection. Bird's nest hair. Flushed cheeks. Blood-shot eyes. Swollen nose and lips. All the signs of a good cry. I had hoped I had dreamed the whole day, but no such luck.

The house was dark as I walked to the kitchen; amazed when I got there that I had not bumped into anything. A note taped to the fridge told me that Renee had not wanted to disturb me, and birthday sandwiches were inside for me. A sigh fell from my lips, heavy with guilt over how I had brushed off my mother earlier. But even that guilt couldn't distract me one simple fact: sandwiches were waiting for me. Not just one or two sandwiches, but an entire platter of them sat on the middle shelf, wrapped in cellophane – the best birthday present I could have asked for. Of course an entire platter of sandwiches seemed a bit ambitious for a twig of a thirteen year old girl, but I surprised myself once again by easily downing the whole lot. And a carton of yogurt. And a banana. And two cans of soda. When I finished, I cleaned the kitchen and then myself, and went back to sleep for more dreamless sleep.

I slept hard, and I slept long. It was almost noon when I woke. I jolted from the bed as if a snake were in it and tore into the kitchen, where my mother perched on the counter with a cup of coffee extended from her hand in my direction. Feeling a bit bewildered, I accepted the cup and cradled it next to my chest, enjoying the warmth. She was eerily quiet.

"School?" I finally squeaked.

"Called you in, toots. You had a… rough day yesterday – thought we could talk." She hopped down from the counter, her pink satin robe fluttering out to either side like butterfly wings before settling back against her skin. I nodded, scrubbing a hand over my face in an attempt to hide my grimace.

"Talk. Yeah, sounds good…" I trailed off, unsure where to begin, and sipped at my coffee.

"So… do you want to tell me about it?" She spoke coolly enough, but her eyes were begging. What I had done at school bothered her more than she wished to let on. I still hadn't figured out where to begin, searching for help among the chips and cracks in the table, eyes landing on Renee's fidgeting hands. She picked at a cuticle. "We don't have to talk about it right now if you don't want to, Bella. You know how I hate the heavy. But we're going to have to talk sometime. And Charlie's worried too-"

My jaw dropped and my eyes shot up. "You told _Charlie_?!" My mother, the least motherly mother I had ever encountered tattled on me to my father, the most fatherly father I had ever encountered.

She tapped her fingers against the table for a moment while nodding. "He called last night, Sweetie, to wish you a Happy Birthday. Bella, he called at 5 o'clock, and you were asleep in bed. A little strange, don't you reckon? And I'm not going to keep him in the dark – he's your dad." The corners of her mouth twitched as if she had more to say, but couldn't. Or wouldn't.

Silence fell upon us for several minutes before I broke it.

"I-I don't… know… what happened…" I breathed. "I skipped breakfast, which, you know, usually isn't… a big deal for me. And I don't _ever_ eat school lunch. But… I was _so_…" –I widened my eyes for affect- "…_hungry._ I –" I moved my hand up and down, gesturing toward my scrawny body – "ate a whole tray of food. And I was _still_ just as hungry." She nodded, encouraging me to keep going. "Mom, they wouldn't give me a second tray – I asked, and then… practically… _begged. _And then…I just… I don't know… I _lost it_." The tears were welling up again. "I barely even remember… what I said, but… I know I made that woman cry." I sniffed and rubbed away a stray tear that had escaped my eyes. "I was so…_angry_."

I was focused on my hands in my lap, but I could make out the rise and fall of Renee's shoulders. _A disappointed sigh_, I told myself. There was no holding back the tears, the sobs, and the hiccups anymore. Renee was out of her chair and crouched in front of me in no time, smoothing my hair away from my tear-soaked cheeks, and hugging me to her tighter than I'd ever recalled her doing before. _When did Renee become so maternal?_

"Shh, baby, it's alright. It's okay…" she cooed, still stroking my hair and rocking me back and forth ever so slightly. On instinct, I breathed in the warm, comforting smell of my mother and felt a fraction of tension fall from me. _Moms are completely awesome._

She pulled back a bit, eyes darting over me, examining my face. I was sure it was a puffy mess – the tears had stopped falling, but my face was still wet and sticky with them. My nose was sure to be swollen and red – same with my lips and eyes. But whatever Renee found there, it snapped her right back to her naturally crazy self. She briskly shot to her feet, raised her index finger in the air as if she'd just had an epiphany, and declared, "I'm going to make you some chocolate chip pancakes!" And with a bright smile, she spun on her heel and went straight to work doing just that.

Under normal circumstances I would have found Renee's impulsive tendencies amusing, even endearing. But I was in turmoil, having had the most bizarre day in my entire life just hours before. I had just had yet another meltdown – right there for Renee to see. And now I was left, mouth agape, snot-faced, tear-streaked – and she was making _pancakes?_! I was probably going insane, and my own mother's solution was _pancakes? _And when my stomach – which had been the source of all my trouble the previous day - betrayed me, growling at the thought of chocolate chip pancakes, it was the last straw. My ears buzzed, all of my hair stood on end, goosebumps painfully prickled over my skin. But I wasn't cold. I was burning up. Painfully hot – no, _on fire_.

She knew. Renee could sense the change in the air – that static electric pop. She whipped around, clutching a batter-covered whisk which hurled egg, flour, and chocolate chips onto the kitchen tiles. My vision blurred, but I could see the clear look of determination on her face as she cautiously approached me. _What the heck is that all about?_ She touched my arm, gently curling her fingers around my wrist and tugged me to follow her. She silently led me to the backyard. I was certain I was going blind, my vision was so blurry. And the buzzing in my ears had gotten louder and higher in pitch – was I going deaf too? And now, instead of a pancake solution, Renee wanted to – what – _sun-bathe_ my problems away? And just like that, just as a soft warm breeze swept my hair from my face, my anger consumed me fully.

Over my entire body, my flesh blistered and ripped.  
Muscles tensed and cramped.  
My head pounded and throbbed.  
Limbs twisted, stretched, and contorted unnaturally.  
Bones cracked, popped, snapped, crunched.

The buzzing in my ears had stopped, only being replaced with the most unnatural, blood-curdling screams of… _agony_, I realized. It wasn't until the nausea hit – wave after ruthless wave – and I was doubled over, dry-heaving, that I realized the screams had been coming from me.

Everything was spinning. Darkness was coming to claim me, and I welcomed the prospect of passing out – this pain, this heat was too much for me. I rolled onto my back, inviting the darkness and relief which never came.

My body, stretching impossibly, shredded itself. A million floating pieces came swirling back together, and just like that, my pain was over.

For just one small second, I thought I had died.

But then, with my eyes still clamped tight, I could hear… _everything. _Cars in the distance, animals – birds, dogs, lizards – making their noises, my mother's heavy heartbeat, the few strands of her hair that were moving just ever so delicately in the breeze. I could smell the hot pavement, a cigarette, car exhaust, chlorine and sunscreen – _the public pool that was two blocks away?_ I could smell my mother's warm and comforting smell too. But there was something else, some other smell on her – anxiety?

_How would I even know how to place a scent like that?_

I slowly peeled my eyes open. Colors like I had never seen them – so bright and vivid. Each individual blade of grass. Every crack in the concrete patio. Moving my eyes toward my mother, I could see every hair and every freckle on her arms. Every laugh line on her face. She smiled somewhat hesitantly as my eyes found hers, deep blue pools of empathy.

Horrified by what I'd just experienced, I forgot my anger. I needed to back in my mom's arms, safe from everything. I moved to reach her, but found standing upright awkward and difficult. She took the initiative and closed the distance between us, eyes studying me, and placed a gentle hand at my cheek.

_Huh, since when is Renee shorter than me?_

"Baby…" she said, and I noticed the slight crack in her voice, "… I think there's something I should tell you."

_Holy. Crow._


	2. Mythical Reality

**Chapter Two**

Renee was disturbingly composed as she sat cross-legged in front of me and spoke - a cacophony of words I was certain she had pulled straight out of books by H.P. Lovecraft or Bram Stoker.

_She's finally gone truly and properly nuts._

But, of course, I could not reasonably believe that. Not with what I'd just experienced – not with my body being in its current form. And so I sat, awestruck, and allowed my mother to spin a web of absurdity around me.

_Shifters. Skin-walkers. Vampires. Children of the Moon. Witches. Psychics._

After the initial shock of what had happened to me had worn away to a dull haze, I realized I had no choice but to believe in the very things I had always understood to exist only in books and movies. I absorbed every drop of information fed to me, eyes trained on my mother's unusually somber face as she explained what we were. My head began to swim; simultaneously trying to wrap itself around this new information and screaming at me to panic, panic, panic.

_Shifters. _

She had been one too; a fox, she told me, a ghost of a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

_Makes sense for her, I guess. Mischievous and playful. Superior to the wild, hyperactive squirrel or chatty parrot I would have guessed. _A sort of half-laugh, half-snort escaped me at the thought of Renee asking for crackers.

She had stopped shifting, given up her fox to be with Charlie, and in doing so had also recovered her reproductive abilities, aging process, and mortality.

_Shifters. _

Immortals with the ability to physically change into a specific creature or entity which has a special connection to their soul – something that seemed particularly thrilling to Renee. A wide grin spread across her face and she clapped her hands in quick succession; a gesture that reminded me of many of my female peers - the moment they found out from a friend (who found out from a friend who found out from a friend who overheard a conversation in the bathroom) that the boy they'd secretly been crushing on was crushing right back - it never failed to produce the same reaction. She was off the ground in an instant, and running toward the house. From my spot in the backyard I could hear her inside, rustling around and humming "Foxy Lady". Back just as quickly as she left, she was holding the full-length mirror from her bedroom. She stood before me, signaling me to rise and slanting the mirror upward as I did so.

_Oh. _

The image in the mirror was indisputably breathtaking. A lengthy feline figure covered in bushy grey fur speckled with elegant black rosettes. Pale green eyes set beneath rounded ears. A rosy-pink nose, white underbelly, massive paws. I had by no means felt so beautiful, so strong.

_A snow leopard. In Arizona. Huh._

Yet, in spite of the cat's magnificence, I felt it was a good match for me – shy, elusive, private. I found that, though it was still bit foreign feeling, I felt more myself in this form than my natural-born body.

It was this reason, I concluded at some point during the process of phasing back, that it took four hours of concentrating, relaxing, and deep breathing – all upon my mother's instruction - before I was able to make the transition back from feline to human. This, my mother informed me, was actually quite a feat, as it often takes days to figure it out.

_Bella Swan, Over-Achiever. _

One unfounded swell of pride and a momentary full-body tingle later, I was confronted with Renee's look of unadulterated shock. The shrill squawk that rose from my throat - intended to be words of worry for Renee – must have visibly surprised me. With one hand over her still-gaping mouth, she slowly raised the mirror once more for me with her other hand.

Afraid to look, I kept my eyes locked with my mother's in hope of finding comfort and reassurance within them. When that never happened, I chanced a look in the mirror.

A feathered arch of blacks and browns beautifully unfolded before me in the glass of the mirror. As I cocked my head, the white-feathered head in the mirror's glass did the same.

_Oh. Holy… Eagle? So weird._

Renee's next words were unintelligible. Half-thoughts, falling from her lips before she could stop them. Her head was a constant motion of back and forth, as if she were trying to clear her vision or a remove an unpleasant thought or memory. Her legs carried her from one end of the yard to the other, and back again. Hands flailed through the air, as if she were being attacked by bees. And as she continued to panic for reasons unknown to me, I concentrated on breathing. Relaxing. Focusing. Shifting.

Renee bolted into the house, from where I could hear the phone's dial-tone and then the pressing of numbers.

_Enhanced hearing. _

I assumed she was calling her shrink or yoga instructor or whatever expert of relaxation and self-enlightenment she was paying that month.

_Focus, Bella._

I blocked the sound of my mother's worried voice, chanting a chorus of _inhale_ and _exhale._ The pain I had experienced upon my first shift seemed to have dulled greatly. This phase-back had the distinctly familiar tingling prickle of a limb that has gone to sleep.

I had just become a human girl once again when Renee stepped back outside, brows furrowed and hands buried in her hair. Her eyes were locked on the ground, obvious in their attempt to avoid me. She kept them there, even as she closed the distance between us until she was standing at my bare feet.

Instinctually, I wiggled my toes. Her eyes, still racked with concern, snapped to mine. She seemed to calm some at the sight of my familiar form. She nodded her head once in apparent approval.

"A council member will be here to meet with us soon, Bella." She stepped forward, reaching out her hand to help me to my feet. "It might be a good idea for you to be… less naked when he arrives."

_Naked!_ A fiery heat bloomed over me in a deep blush that began at my hairline and ended at my ankles. I ran for the privacy and isolation of my bedroom, where I could only hope to shrivel up and die. _Why didn't this detail occur to me before?_ I was fully clothed in a matter of seconds, every inch of skin covered, apart from my face. And that was only because I couldn't find a scarf. Or a ski mask.

* * *

As Renee's voice called to me a third time, I cautiously left the soothing confines of solitude only my bedroom allowed me.

There, in the entrance to our house, stood a giant of a man. Tufts of rich brown hair framed his face, protruding from a worn and dirt-crusted blue bandana which covered his forehead, falling just below his strong stubble-covered chin and resting delicately on broad muscled shoulders.

_Julian, _I had overheard Renee call him. He towered over her by at least a foot. His hands, covered partially by fingerless olive-colored gloves, held my mother's as they exchanged a worried look.

He was... beautiful.

Something about this man exuded wisdom beyond his apparent years; peace, despite his disheveled appearance; calm in the midst of Renee's panic.

I felt the atmosphere in the room shift as my presence made itself known. In my rush to pile layer upon layer of clothing upon my body, I had neglected to tie my shoelaces. I made my grand entrance with an "Oomph!" and an "Ugh..." as I landed, quite flat, on my face, sprawled like a squashed bug at the boot-clad feet of a glorious man.

I would have pretended to be dead if I could have, but the booming sound of a baritone chuckle startled me, causing me to jolt from my place on the floor. He was quick to bend and help me up, his dark waves brushing against my cheek as a hand effortlessly lifted me up to my feet. The back of my head was at his chest, and his hand remained protectively on my arm as he guided me to the living room.

"Well, ladies," his voice vibrated in my chest, "shall we all have a talk, hm?"

_Gifted, _he called me. It took some time – far more time than I would have liked – for him to ascertain that I was, in fact, a Shifter. I refused to look directly at him, but felt the weight of his stare heavily as he assessed me. A _special_ one, he said, but a Shifter nonetheless.

Relief rolled off Renee in waves as her shoulders visibly relaxed and she released a heavy sigh. I could not mask my confusion as I met my mother's gaze. Her relief, short-lived, was quickly replaced with a genuine look of remorse. She guiltily confessed that it had alarmed her when I phased into a second animal – a trait, she said, commonly associated with Skin-walkers, and almost unheard of among Shifters.

"Skin-walker…" I echoed, "You mentioned them earlier, Mom, right? What are they?"

Renee looked to Julian, unsure how to advance. He took a sharp breath through his nose and stepped away from the place he'd created for himself on the wall, huffing at the effort.

"Walkers and Shifters share the ability to take on the form of an animal," Julian spoke, wringing his hands. "But the parallels between the two kinds end at that," he paused, perhaps considering how to best phrase his next revelation. "Walkers, unlike Shifters, are able to take any animal shape they wish at any given time… as, I believe, you too can."

"So… then I-I _am_ a-a Walker?" I glanced at his face, locking eyes with the enormous man for the first time. I was unable to stop my mouth from falling open as I was met with the kindest and most gentle eyes I had ever seen; violet and curiously older than the rest of him, a haunting and soothing familiarity lurked in their depths.

"No, Bella, you're not a Walker." I sensed a small smile in his voice as he continued. "And, for this, I am very glad." Absent-mindedly, he let his fingertips lightly tap against his leg before settling there. "Walkers, Bella, are not an agreeable species by any means. They are often the outcasts of society – troubled, one might say. And if they are not wicked before they gain their skill to phase, they indubitably become so following their first shift."

He took a seat, settling into the soft cushions of my mother's favorite chair, looking impossibly larger within its confines, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his thighs. The leather of his jacket creaked as he brought his hands beneath his jaw, resting his chin on the tips of his fingers and cocking his head toward me. "As a Shifter, Bella, you will at all times have the option of joining a pack, or flock, or herd. Shifters are kinfolk, regardless of bloodlines. Walkers… have no family, want no family, and have no concept of emotion outside of greed and hatred and resentment. That state of mind takes a physical toll on a Walker's form – in both their human and their animal."

Very nearly unnoticeably, he scowled – as if simultaneously remembering, and then pushing to the back of his mind, an unpleasant memory – and stirred in the chair. "No matter what form, Walkers are a most disturbing blend of human and monster. And that," he looked pointedly at me, "is why you are most certainly no Walker, Miss Swan."

I sat, glued to my spot, feeling somehow even less sure of myself. My mouth opened and closed; surely one of my better fish-out-of-water impressions. I knew I had questions -so many questions- but my voice had gotten lost.

Chuckling, he stood then, and made his way to the front door, only pausing for a moment to wish me luck, and to share a few whispered words with my mother – something about control, training, climate, and trees. He stepped through the door, turning just once more to look into Renee's eyes. Unspoken words passed between the two of them, and then Julian simply vanished, the sound of a motorcycle speeding away.

Renee used up the remainder of that evening enlightening me on the nature of Shifters; peaceful, loyal, protective.

When necessary, Shifters had a truly great advantage in battle – a shared mind, an incredibly strong body, enhanced senses and intuition, and rapid healing. The biggest advantage of all, though, was the simple, but fierce need to protect the innocent; a powerful instinct which had a tendency to clash with the nature of other species.

Vampires topped the list, but our kind had, at some point or other, battled nearly every other supernatural species in existence for our purpose. The number of Shifters in the world had depleted considerably during those great wars.

Many had died. Some had been traumatized by battle, vowing to not pass on the shifting gene. Others had simply gone missing or gone into hiding, often being eventually discovered. But some had been lost to the Council altogether, leaving our numbers unknown and the Council distressed. The Council is comprised of ten elder Shifters. It is their duty to create and enforce laws and penalties among the Shifters, and to record the histories of our kind. Histories which were left incomplete with each group of Shifters lost.

The weeks following my first shift were difficult. School was undoubtedly problematic, even after The Cafeteria Incident was put on the back burner, and then eventually forgotten. But mostly, the actual problem was in fact that, quite simply, snow leopards did not mesh well with the Arizona heat, nor did they blend in. As my default animal, it was an issue. My "gift" would allow me to take the form of any animal, but for the first several months I was unable to control it. Renee knew Phoenix was not the place for me, but kept me with her there for a few years in order to train me. _Control. Meditation. Fabrication. _

Those years were filled with yoga classes, art classes, therapy, acupuncture, exercise – anything she thought might help me manage with my emotions better. I was a bit taken aback when, within those methods I had been taught, I in fact did figure out how to control the emotional factor in the equation. And with emotions controlled, my shifting became effortless. Renee was fascinated by the vast multitude of forms I could take, and always pushed me to try new fighting techniques, spy strategies, and lies. _Just in case_, she said. Our top priority, apart from protecting the innocent, was to protect our secret.

My social life during those years left a lot to be desired. When I wasn't in school, I was training or studying. When I was in school, I was too tired to socialize - long nights of exhausting training and sporadic sleep which was always riddled with the recurring dream of never finding _home_ - and, admittedly, I was still painfully shy. I was grateful to be the unseen wallflower among my peers. I did have a few very close friends I had met during training camps provided by the Council – kindred spirits who, like me, were tied into the world of the supernatural. But they weren't in Arizona, and so they didn't really make me less lonely; an emotion that for many months curiously turned me into a wolf, long silken black fur spotted in gray.

Eventually, despite my having mastered the art of self-control, Renee admitted she had no more to teach me, and that she thought it best if I moved to Washington with my father. _A better environment, _she said. And though the temptation was strong to be in a cooler climate and under the coverage of thick forest, I felt inclined to stay with my mother, my mentor. At 17 years old, I had the right to choose where I lived. What I failed to take into account was just how convincing Renee could be when we she really put her mind to it.


	3. The New Girl and The Wolf Boys

**Disclaimer: **All publicly recognizable characters are the property of their respective creators. Original characters (thus far) and much of the plot belong to FFN author, **violet eyed dreamer**, who graciously has allowed me to adopt this intriguing story.

**A/N** Apologies if this chapter blows - no beta for this one, just me!

**Suggested Listening: **The Original Doctor Who Theme song (1963) by Delia Derbyshire.

* * *

**Chapter Three**

_The New Girl & The Wolf Boys_

By the time the plane landed in Port Angeles, I was finding it more and more difficult to breathe. The awful conclusion I had drawn was simple: Shifters are just not suited to travel long distances in confined spaces. My heightened senses did not permit me to miss a single wheeze or whisper or movement, let alone the whimpers of the fidgety youngster three rows behind me or the phlegm-filled coughs of the obvious heavy smoker at the front of the plane.

Worse than the sounds, were the odors. The infant five rows ahead managed to not soil its diaper, but had spit up curdled milk onto its mother's shoulder and down her front. The flight attendant smelled of cheap perfume and cosmetics. The man in the seat opposite of mine reeked of garlic, grease, and bacon. There were, of course, pleasant aromas as well; a light floral scent emanated from a beautiful middle-aged woman sitting a few rows behind me, and the gentlemen beside me smelled of pipe tobacco and spearmint. But when combined with the other prevailing scents, they only added to my growing nausea.

The animal in me was champing at the bit, desperate in its need to escape the congested tin box. _It would have been faster – and friendlier to my bank account – to run here_, I sneered to myself. Truth be told, if it hadn't been for Charlie and my luggage, I would have happily flown here as a falcon or, if I was really feeling dramatic, an eagle.

Charlie had never been allowed the knowledge of the supernatural realm. Renee had not imprinted on him. And, though she rightfully could have marked him and claimed him as her mate, she at no time did. It was not ever discussed, but I guessed Renee just knew herself quite well; recognized that, regardless of her profound love for him, she'd never want to keep herself tied down to him for the rest of her life, or vice versa. Renee was nothing if not a truly free spirit. Whatever her reasons were, the matter of her never claiming him as her mate had resulted in his being kept in the dark. It was never a problem for me until I was abruptly packing up and moving there.

It was tricky; trying to learn if there were other Shifters around Forks from someone who did not and could not know about Shifters.

As my impending relocation drew closer, phone conversations with my father had become more common – an almost nightly occurrence throughout the months of April and May, as my junior year of high school dwindled to its end. I hid behind the pretext of a final essay – its subject matter, I told him, was animals out of their natural habitats - casually questioning if he was aware of any unexpected animals around Forks or the surrounding area. There were stories, he confessed with a hint of cynical delight in his voice, of giant wolves. But since wolves were not particularly uncommon so close to Alaska, and since Charlie had sounded so confident that "folks are just seein' bears, but are lookin' to tell tall tales", I easily dismissed it and carried on with my plans to move.

Following the arrows to the baggage claim, I heaved an impatient sigh of annoyance as dozens of bags began their slow and steady circulation on the conveyor belt. It was evident I would remain at the baggage claim for a while.

Minutes dragged by, and boredom quickly settled over me. Without any effort at all, and without really even noticing what I was doing, I began listening in on some of the conversations of the people surrounding me. I was still maintaining a half-focus on finding my luggage, fingering the hem of my t-shirt, the four little stick-figure girls lined up on its front causing the corners of my lips to twitch into a small smile as I absent-mindedly eavesdropped.

_Babies. Boring._

_Sports. Boring. _

_Newlyweds. Sickening._

_Fashion. Boring._

_Weather. Boring._

_Health issues. Disturbing._

And then, something familiar – a tune I'd heard a hundred times – resonated over every other noise in terminal. Eyes closed, my thoughts wandered, drifting into a star-filled galaxy with limitless possibilities and enthralling adventures.

_The blue box._

_Silver bodied cybermen. _

_Jelly Babies._

_Daleks. _

_K-9. _

_Sonic screwdriver._

_The Doctor._

My head shot up, eyes alert and lips smirking. _I recognize that_.

A whispered, deep, throaty voice smoothly hummed the theme from Doctor Who – arguably my favorite show since childhood, and one of the select few programs I made a point of watching since its relaunch just months prior. It was a song I'd recognize anywhere.

Chancing a look around the airport, my eyes perused the crowd of foreign faces. What I was looking for exactly, I wasn't sure – a stranger amidst the travelers with whom I could silently feel some small connection. My mind was pulsating with feelings of camaraderie, secretly in cahoots with this unfamiliar somebody in the sea of outsiders. Unbeknownst to the deep voiced stranger, I had already decided that we were kindred spirits, fellow companions to the Doctor from afar. My searching eyes fell upon three hulking figures - very large, very muscular, very tan, very dark-haired men - standing near the airport café. The humming had stopped, but it had come from their general direction. Something about these men piqued my interest; a sense of familiarity in their posture and presence caused a stirring deep in my bones. My ears naturally strained, seeking out and finding their conversation.

"Sam, we hafta get back _now,_" insisted one native, handsome features obviously plagued with stress. "Emily will be fine. The _tribe_ needs us now – the leeches have come back!"

_Leeches? Crap. _

He scrubbed a hand through his short black hair, jammed his trembling hands into the pockets of his low-slung cargo shorts, and sighed heavily, whisper-yelling, "How the hell can you be so _calm_?!"

The slightly taller man – Sam – looked the picture of calm, cool, and collected, even with the intimidatingly tense face of the angry man mere inches from his own. He stared ahead into the crowd, eyes the color of coal unblinking at the frustrated outburst, while leaning against a wall, one knee bent and foot propped and resting behind him, muscle-swollen arms crossed over the broad expanse of his chest. But even over the distance and raucous of the crowd between us, I could hear his pounding heart and the grinding of his teeth behind the thin line of his lips. _Annoyance._

"We **_will_ wait** for my imprint, Lahote," he spat back at the agitated man, who winced a little at the force of Sam's words. "…and then I'll explain to her why we have to _skip_ our dinner plans and head straight for La Push." He was speaking quietly, bitterly, and the tone of his voice, the timbre, the _power_ made my skin crawl in fierce indignation.

_Alpha._

Before I even registered what I was doing, before I could stop it from happening, I had pulled my top lip just over my teeth and growled – low enough that I was certain none of the humans in the terminal were able to pick up on it. But I knew what these men were. I knew they were not humans.

_Giant wolves._

_Shifters. _

_Enhanced hearing. _

I recovered quickly, retraining my eyes to a spot on the floor – sticky, dried coffee.

I knew they'd heard it, even predicted their reaction. At once, three native heads shot to attention, nostrils flaring and eyes darting, their bodies posing defensively on instinct. _Oops._

Fully facing me now, Sam's voice had taken a level of concern. "What. The. Hell. Was _that_? A _growl_? Embry, did you hear where it came from?" He looked momentarily at Native Hunk #3 before resuming his frantic scan of the crowd.

The third man, Embry, turned in my direction for the first time. "No, man, I dunno where it came from." He shot his eyes to the other two, pulling a massive hand to the back of his head and scouring his fingernails through his hair. "Paul, dude, let's go check things out." At that, they both looked to Sam for the OK. He nodded once and took off in the opposite direction.

"Maybe there _was_ a good reason to come here." Paul was mumbling, probably mostly to himself, but Embry nodded in wholehearted agreement as they made their way through the crowd and right past me, drawing the attention of men through intimidation, women through attraction, and children through awe. They were a sight to behold; bodies of warriors, protectors by nature. _Kinfolk._

I speculated for a moment why they hadn't been able to smell me, what I was, but I quickly recognized that between the hordes of people, food, cold drinks, hot drinks, bathrooms, garbage, cleaning products, and a mass of other odors, I could only to some extent make out their scents myself. And that was only because I knew what to smell for – that fundamental scent of _nature_ that seems embedded in every Shifter, lying there, so vague but so deep, beneath the other scents unique to themselves.

I couldn't help but grin. It could be quite dangerous to enter another Shifter's land uninvited – a distinctly territorial species. But it was always a comfort to meet more people like me. And, really, they couldn't fault me. To the best of my knowledge, the land was unclaimed.

The only downside was that, I guessed, they were a pack – _giant wolves _– in danger from fangs. I had always done my best to avoid vampires. They, for the most part, killed innocents. And Shifters, natural protectors that we are, had been discouraged to intervene. Between the Council of Shifters and the Volturi, who made and enforced the laws of vampires, the two species were currently at peace.

I watched the two russet-skinned men with appreciation as they reached the end of the terminal, turning around to make their way back. I soundlessly declared them the most stunning creatures I'd ever seen. I forced myself to tear my eyes away from them, not wanting to be spotted. I glared at the conveyor belt instead, willing it to produce my luggage when an arm, hard and scorching hot, brushed against my own. A jolt of electricity shot through my arm, snaking its way up to my shoulder, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand.

"Whoa, shit! Erm… sorry," a masculine voice mumbled from behind me. I twisted, red-faced and certain that I had been found out, to see only the beautifully sculpted backs of the two men as they sauntered away. One was rubbing his arm, mirroring my own action. Below my fingertips, a patch of pink was appearing on my pale skin where our flesh had made contact. I looked back to the men, who had now resumed their position near the café, and then to my arm again. The pink was still there, a rosy hue which tingled to the touch.

Shaking myself from my thoughts, I refocused my efforts on willing the conveyor belt to make my luggage appear. And when I spotted my bags – two mammoth suitcases, zippers visibly about to burst from being overstuffed – I did an internal victory dance and hauled them off the belt with ease. At a measly 5'3, I was nowhere near as impressive as the La Push wolves I'd been ogling, but my little body was strong like a warrior's even if it didn't show.

The wolves were clearly still trying to locate the source of the growl they'd heard when I strolled past, a suitcase in each hand, parka draped over one shoulder, and a messenger bag slung over the other. I suppose I might have been trying to show off a bit; what's a little competition among family, right?

In my peripheral I noted the one I knew to be Paul elbowing Sam. "What about her," he whispered, angling his head at me. "She's _tiny_ and check out those boulders she's carrying… like it's _nothing_."

Sam made a snorting sound, and in a feisty burst of rare confidence I whipped my head around before he could reply to Paul. "Guilty!" I quietly sing-songed as I continued walking. "See you in La Push, wolf boys!" I winked at Paul before turning my head back around and quickening my pace.

I was gone before they had a chance to collect their thoughts, gracefully dodging other travelers and making my way toward the doors. I saw Charlie and couldn't stop myself beaming. He was looking over the crowd, that Chief of Police expression written all over his face, when he noticed me.

"Bells!" He hollered, a smile matching my own plastered over his face. Less than elegant, we both shoved our way through the mass of people until we reached each other, only to come to the halting realization that neither of us had really thought through what we'd do once we got to each other. We awkwardly embraced before heading outside to the cruiser.

The journey to my new home was spent, for the most part, in companionable silence. I was mesmerized by the lovely, lush, green scenery. _So much forest to explore._

As we passed a sign welcoming us to Forks, Charlie cleared his throat and squinted at me. "Almost to the house now, kiddo."

I had already known we were close to his house; it had surprised me to some degree that I was able to recall Forks as vividly as I did. Recollections of my time spent here were hazy, but I seemed to know exactly where we were, where different things and places were.

"Might as well tell you now – seein' as we'll be there in a couple 'a minutes anyway." Charlie slowed the cruiser for a red light and momentarily looked fully at me. "I gotcha a little – eh, alright, a _pretty big_ – welcome gift."

_Gift?_

I blanched. Gifts were unwelcome. Gifts lead to awkward gift-opening moments and eyes inspecting me and even more awkward thank-you's that were never…_adequate. _I wasn't good at accepting gifts.

My mouth was open, my mind willing it protest, but no words would come out. Panicked, I looked to Charlie, whose mouth was quirked haughtily beneath his mustache.

"Breathe, Bells." He snickered. "It's an old rust bucket of a truck – look, there it is now." Charlie extended out his finger above the steering wheel, my eyes following its direction to look through the windshield. There, in Charlie's driveway, sat a massive beast of a truck, its orange-red paint worn and fractured.

An unrelenting grin spread over my face.

"Dad, how did-… Where did-… Wh-" Under the force of this love at first sight, I found myself inept at forming even one complete thought or sentence about the handsome old machine.

"Ah, 's'nothin', Bells." He pulled the cruiser over at the end of the yard and put it in park. "Good ol' Billy Black was lookin' to sell the ol' girl – I thought, ya know, you'll be needin' a way to get yourself around. His boy, Jacob, has got quite a talent for fixin' these things up – got it runnin' real good for ya, and the damn thing's near indestructible."

"It's n-not _'nothing'_," my eyes had glassed over, the threat of tears looming. "Thank you… r-really." Incapable of waiting any longer, I threw the handle and opened the door of the cruiser. The icy gust of wind that hit my face shocked me, but wasn't enough to stop me from getting to that truck – _my_ truck.

It was battered and bruised, timeworn and faded, dingy and dirty. But it was mine. And it was, unquestionably, the most considerate gift I'd received. _Perfect, _I decided. Not over the top, not at all fancy, or lavish, or extravagant, not expensive. _Perfect._

I let my fingers graze over the cold metal body, reaching to open the door when Charlie's wheezing disturbed my thoughts. He had managed to wrench the two colossal suitcases from the back of the cruiser, and had gotten it in his head to try to carry them both to the house at once. I frowned, hastening to help, but was promptly shooed away.

I guiltily allowed him this – unable to confess to my father that my strength was greater than his own. As he visibly struggled to heave my luggage up the porch steps, I took note of the close proximity of the woods.

"Geez, Bells, did ya leave anything in your poor mother's house for her, or did ya bring it all here?" He panted, dropping the suitcases with a grunt and fumbling with his keys to unlock the dead bolt. My cheeks reddened, and I remained quiet. With the door successfully unlocked, he gestured for me to enter first while he swung the suitcases over the threshold.

I'd spent my first two years in this house, as well as every summer before I turned 13. Nothing ever changed much here.

The family room, barely handkerchief-sized, was filled with the same mismatched furniture that had always been there. The mantle above the small fireplace still held Charlie and Renee's wedding picture, as well as several pictures of me from birth through teen years. The only change, I observed, was a giant flat-screen television sitting in the corner. _Quite the upgrade from the 19-inch box._ The small kitchen had the same old square oak table, and the same three mismatched chairs I'd always known. The cabinets, though chipping a bit now, were still the bright yellow Renee had painted them eons ago. The pantry was… bare, much like the fridge. Clearly Charlie didn't know what he was getting into, taking in a Shifter who could eat her weight in food on a daily basis.

_Grocery shopping. Soon._

In keeping with the rest of the house, my room had not changed much. I found security in the familiar light blue walls. Charlie had upgraded me to a full-size bed and new bedding. A desk sat opposite the bed, a silver cell phone and a white laptop sat atop it. The old wooden rocking chair from my baby days sat in one corner, and pretty Cheval mirror in the other.

"I hope you like the bedding," he blurted awkwardly, shuffling his feet a bit. "The, um, saleslady picked it out – said girls like purple. You like purple?"

"Purple's perfect, Dad." I offered a small smile. "It's great, really. Thank you." I felt somewhat inclined to hug him again, but was quick to remember the scene at the airport. He stood, hands stuffed in his pockets, for another moment before abruptly spinning on his heal and darting out of my bedroom.

"Bathroom's where it's always been." He called – was he _downstairs_ already?

I looked out my bedroom window. It overlooked the front yard and the street, but if I angled myself just right I could see the tree line. _Giant wolves, _I remembered. _Ridiculously good looking native men, _I giggled.

I checked my watch – one o'clock. I grabbed my messenger bag, overturning it and effectively dumping it out. I threw the emptied parcel over my shoulder and headed downstairs. "Ch-Dad, I'm going out to… " I found myself stuck, trying to quickly run through different conclusions to my unfinished sentence. I had become quite good at lying thanks to Renee's rigorous training, but preferred not to if I could avoid it at all.

_…La Push? _No. As far as Charlie knew, I had no reason to go to La Push.

…_Sight-see? _No. There were no sights to be seen in Forks that I'd not seen before.

_… Explore? _That just sounded downright suspicious.

_Got it! _An imaginary light-bulb brightly shined over my head.

"…the grocery store! How have you survived all these years with no food in your house?!"

I was out the door before he could protest, but I found myself doubting an objection to food from Charlie.

With a tap to the truck's hood first, I opened the door with a squeak and slid into the driver's seat. Hands wrapped around the steering wheel, I allowed myself to relax and, wanting to become better acquainted with _the ol' girl_, I breathed in the smell of my new-old truck.

_Motor oil. Grease. Stale smoke. Worn upholstery._

I smiled. The epitome of old truck smell. Nostrils flaring, I sucked in another lung-full.

_Pine. Cinnamon. Oranges._

The very smell of… Christmas. I closed my eyes, greedily inhaling again.

_Cardamom. Lemongrass. Nutmeg._

It was quickly becoming intoxicating, the varying layers of scents. I recalled Charlie saying that Jacob Black had worked on the truck – _was he the source of these tantalizing fragrances?_

I unfastened my eyelids to find Charlie's face, etched with confusion, peering at me from the other side of the driver's window. As he cocked an eyebrow at me, I wondered to myself how long I'd been sitting with my eyes closed and felt warmth pool in my cheeks. I grasped for the handle on the door, deeply drawing in one last breath of the truck's cab before getting out, lost in the inviting odors which encircled me.

_Mossy, damp earth. Freshly cut grass. Musky cedar and just a touch of vanilla. _No. Not cedar. _Sandalwood._

My eyes flew open, nostrils flaring unbearably more.

_Earth. Grass. Sandalwood. _

Another breath.

_Earth. Grass. Sandalwood._

All around me.

_Earth. Grass. Sandalwood._

And then it hit me, the crushing realization forcing my hand away from the handle on the door and landing it at my mouth.

_Earth. Grass. Sandalwood. Dreams. **Home.**_

The knocking on the window to my left only just registered as darkness claimed me.

* * *

**A/N **

I don't know if any of my readers are fans of FFN author **WhoNatural** or not, but if you all are here for the Bella/Embry pairing, I HIGHLY recommend that girl's story, **Butterflies and Hurricanes**. It is FANTASTIC, and her Embry was the inspiration behind my own Embry's Doctor Who fandom (though, as a BIG Whovian myself, he might have come out that way without the influence of her story). A big thanks to her and her brilliant imagination for bringing Embry (and many others) to life for me.


	4. The Phantom In Quil's Head

**A/N:  
**Thank you so much to all who have reviewed, and welcome to new readers :)

**Suggested Listening:  
**Popul Vuh – Aguirre I  
The Firm – Star Trekkin'  
Bonnie Prince Billy – Lessons From What's Poor  
Yeasayer – Ah, Weir

* * *

**Chapter Four**

_The Phantom in Quil's Head_

* * *

_Clouds draped low in a night sky. Wind in the leaves. Warmth tickled up my spine. Sandalwood, freshly cut grass, mossy damp earth – **home**,carried away on the breeze. The instinct was to run, to catch **home**. My limbs were unmoving. My fingers at my cheek; something searing and sticky there – molten gold ran down my face. A crow pecked gently, playfully, at my toes. Wind in the leaves. Sandalwood, grass, earth, home. The howl of a wolf bellowed mournfully behind me. My head wanted to turn – to look – but was frozen. Pain jolted through the skin and bones of my foot. Blood dripped from the crow's beak. It flew away, into the night. Beneath it, a path of moss and ferns appeared. I took a step; one bare foot, bloody from the fresh injury inflicted by the crow, atop the soft moss. At the other end of the path was an elderly man, long beard swaying in the wind. His one eye stared intently at me, but he remained still. A baritone voice rang out from every direction and from within my head, deeper and richer than anything I've heard, thick with age and wisdom._

_"Isabella. It is time."_

* * *

"Bella! For God's sake, snap outta it," hands were clutching my shoulders, my body being shaken. Charlie's voice was ringing in my ears, pinched and panicked. "Come on, sweetie, it's time to wake up now, _please_."

My eyelids felt heavy as boulders as I fought to pry them apart. Accidentally smacking Charlie in his chin as I lifted a heavy limb, I pawed at my eyes with the back of my hand. "Sorry, sorry!" I grunted as I finally succeeded in opening my eyes.

He snorted. "Just glad I didn't have to slap _you_ first. What the hell happened there, Bells?" He pushed himself up from his place on the floor where he had been crouched beside the sofa, and crossed the room the window. I couldn't remember coming inside. "Just came out to give you some money for the groceries. You – I dunno – you were hyperventilating or somethin'. Got all red. Then got all pale. Then just slumped over in the seat – lucky ya didn't hit your head on the steering wheel or somethin'."

It came back to me then; the overpowering recognition that a crucial element to the dream I'd been having for almost five years existed – really and truly existed – in the cab of my very own truck.

Charlie eyed me suspiciously from his place on the other side of the room, obviously waiting for me to supply the answer to his query. But I myself was not quite ready to settle a definite self-diagnosis yet. Perhaps I had, as Charlie suggested, hyperventilated as I ravenously swallowed down all of the incredible aromas in the truck.

But something about that just didn't seem quite right.

It hadn't felt like I had passed out at all. It was something else entirely. Something akin to a deep sleep, but never in my life had I fallen asleep so abruptly, so fast, so completely. Still, there was no denying that it had _felt _like sleep. It may have appeared to Charlie that I had been hyperventilating, taking in breath after urgent breath, but in truth, every lungful of _that_ scent had been calming, pacifying, _like home._

"Motion sickness!" I jumped as I blurted it out, startled to hear my own voice above my racing thoughts. I had been lost in my mind, consumed by how that smell had affected me. But apparently some silent part of my brain had decided to take matters into its own hands, signaling my mouth to answer Charlie's question before he assumed I had suffered from a stroke. "Um, th-that is, I took medicine before I got on the plane this morning – for… motion sickness." I sat up a little, feigning dizziness. "It… has a lot of side-effects, I guess." I finished lamely.

I could see the traces of doubt lurking in Charlie's eyes, but he nodded his head and uncrossed his arms, giving up any argument he wanted to make. "Well, kid, d'ya think ya slept it off? We still need to go to the grocery store."

Grocery shopping _with_ Charlie Swan, as it turns out, was not something I would come to categorize as pleasant, nor was it an activity I ever repeated after that first day.

We were in and out of the store in under an hour, and in that short time I had become so worked up from his impatience that I felt sure I was on the brink of _actually_ having a stroke. I was wiped out by the time we made back it back to the house. Charlie had assumed my exhaustion had only to do with motion-sickness medicines, and nothing to do with the experience I'd had in the grocery store – one I'd begun comparing to a mother and her fussy toddler, who had made the rounds through the grocery store nearly right alongside us.

Returning to the house, apparently also exhausted from his petulant behavior at the store, a yawning Charlie suggested that we put away only the perishables and leave the rest for the following day. I gladly obliged, and when we finished putting everything into the refrigerator, we went for dinner at the local diner.

We parked ourselves at a small square table next to a row of windows. Shrinking into my chair as much as much my body would physically allow, I did my best to fight off the instinct to phase into a mouse as every single person in the diner made their rounds at our table; stopping to say a few words to Charlie and, undoubtedly, to get in on the most recent gossip . _The daughter of Charlie Swan's flighty ex-wife, returned to Forks after all these years._ And, though I could never quite catch anyone in the act, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched. I could sense eyes burning into me for the duration of our nearly silent meal. It made me feel… itchy. And if the discomfort of that weren't enough, the pink mark that was still on my arm from the airport had begun to tingle, and no amount of rubbing or scratching seemed to soothe it.

I plowed through my two garden burgers, sweet potato fries, coleslaw, and vegetable soup; anxious to leave the diner and escape from whatever prying eyes I was unable to see. As I finished my last few sips of my milkshake – plate already clean – I heaped my garbage together, and stood from my seat, expecting Charlie to follow suit. It was only when he failed to do so that I glanced at him; still seated, a nearly full plate of food in front of him, mouth agape, eyes wide and staring at me.

_Oh. Right. _

I'd have to adjust to eating with the fully human parent. I plopped back into my seat; still feeling eyes upon me, still itchy, still finding no relief for my arm. I drummed my fingers atop our table as I waited for Charlie to eat his dinner. It gave me time to devise a plan for getting to La Push.

* * *

I had made it past the tree line and was safely tucked into the refuge of the trees when I picked up on the creaking sound of Charlie's back door. From my spot in the forest I could still see the little house, Charlie's head protruding from the entrance.

_Looking for me._

It had still been light when Charlie and I had made it back to his house. I had told him I was still feeling a bit stir-crazy, and was going to for a walk. Technically, it _was _true.

I swallowed deeply around my guilt, wondering if Charlie had wanted to spend time with me. But the thought was pushed to the back of my mind when he yawned, and muttered something I couldn't make out before drawing his head back into the house and closing the door. I had other matters to tend to; complications which were, I admitted to myself, a higher priority than father-daughter bonding. _As fun as _that_ would be._

Pushing myself further into the trees, I stopped only when I was sure I was out of sight from the roads and houses. I made quick work of removing my clothes, cramming them into the empty messenger bag. Nervously, I phased into my wolf and I was instantly overly aware of the slight foreignness of this body, feeling momentarily awkward.

In the early months of shifting, when I had not yet learned to deliberately manipulate the influence my emotions had on my form, I would recurrently find myself as a wolf when feeling totally lonesome. I had reasoned that, since wolves travel in packs, the transformation was my mind's way of trying to connect with others.

But there were no others around Phoenix, and being a wolf only left me feeling lonelier – almost empty. Once I was in control of my shifting, I became a wolf only when I was guaranteed the company of at least one other.

Phasing in the woods not far from my father's house, my apprehension stemmed from having no assurance that I would find another wolf's mind with which to connect – the emptiness I'd felt as a lone wolf had been _that_ brutal. I composed myself, stretching my unfamiliar muscles.

I made the decision to travel around the wooded area before endeavoring to make contact with the wolf boys, allowing myself to become acquainted with not just the territory, but also my wolf physique. I inhaled deeply, taking in the multitude of different odors; at least seven distinct wolf scents, two vampires, and Charlie. The sickly sweet smell of vampire – cotton candy and rotting flesh - made my skin prickle and fur bristle. With everything else that had happened that day, the grating smell of fangs was the final straw. The agitation my wolf was feeling became almost unbearable; I needed to run.

Putting miles between myself and Charlie's house, my anxiety began to recede; my pace slowing to match my calmer outlook. Once again, I lowered my nose to the floor of the forest and inhaled, following the scent of the wolves and vampires until I reached a point where, curiously, the scent of fangs abruptly stopped. The wolves' scents continued beyond the point. _A border?_ I wondered briefly why a border would be necessary, reminding myself to discuss the matter with them later.

I trudged on in the direction of the wolves, taking in the scenery of the forest. It really was beautiful.

When I sensed I was getting closer, I stopped to seek out a mind link, withdrawing my own mind's shield just enough to allow for the detection of any others who were phased, but keeping it reigned in enough to remain undetected if anyone else _was_ phased. Instantaneously, I could feel the power I held as Mega-Alpha – a term I'd come up with when I realized my ability to command any Alpha without taking their place – coursing through me. Someone else was phased, present in the mind link. I listened.

Singing.

_Star Trekkin' across the universe, On the Starship Enterprise under Captain Kirk. Star Trekkin' across the universe, Boldly going forward 'cause we can't find reverse._

Caught off guard by the randomness and absurdity of it, I slipped and let the unknown wolf hear my outburst of irrepressible laughter.

The song halted, leaving only my giggles to fill the void. It quickly became awkward. I decided to try my luck with the furry stranger, consciously lowering my mind's defenses to allow him to hear me.

_So, tell me, is there, like, a… La Push Wolf Pack All Geek Choir or something?_

Silence.

_Hellooo? _I called.

_Wha – Hello?! _ He was clearly confused. I could see flashes of images in his head; Scarlett Johansson in a red swimsuit, sitting pool-side with her feet dipped into the water and her head slung back to expose her neck; Keira Knightley sitting in a lifeguard's seat in a barely-there unikini; Milla Jovovich and Kate Beckinsale lathering each other's bodies with sunscreen; Bea Arthur on a pogo-stick –

_- Whoa, whoa, WHOA there, cowboy. I don't think I wanna know where you're going with those thoughts. _

Silence.

_Oh, for goodness sake… okay, lemme make a deal with you. If you talk to me right now… I promise not to tell anyone about the whole Bea Arthur thing._ I giggled a little again. It couldn't be helped.

_O-kay, Quil, get a grip, dude. You're going innnnsaaaaane. It's bad enough to have _actual_ voices in your head; now you need to add fake ones to the mass. Ugh, wait 'til the others find out – I'm never gonna live this down. And it can't even be a rugged, manly, masculine voice, OH NO! Some sugar-coated meek – alright, kinda hot - little girl voice and – _

_Still here, you know._ I bit out, dryly. Sugar-coated? Meek? Really?

_Uh, yeah, I know. You're still here, I'm still fucked. _I could sense he was beginning to panic a little.

I giggled. Again. Just a little. The thought occurred to me that this _could_ be a lot of fun for me. If there weren't dire circumstances, of course. _Okay, silly wolf-boy, here's the deal: You're not insane. Or, at least, you're not insane for hearing me. I am not your feminine side, coming out for some profound inner monologue about gender equality. I would love to keep playing the phantom in your head, but I'm in a bit of a hurry, so I'm just going to lay all my cards on the table for you, alright? Think you can keep up?_

_Oh, puh-lease. Knock yourself, Quiletta. _He had snarky bite to his tone.

_Quilett- you know, what, nevermind that. My name is Bella. I am a Shifter. I just moved here from Phoenix. I'm living with Charlie Swan in Forks. What's your name?_

_Um…Quil. _He reluctantly supplied.

_Okay, Quil, I need to speak to your alpha; can you tell me where to find him?_

_Hold up there, girly, I'm not telling you anything until you tell me what the hell a… a _Shifter_ is. And how the fuck are you a _wolf?_ You're Bella Swan, right? A pale face. The wolf gene's all Quileute, baby. One. Hundred. Per-Cent._He said, popping 't'.

_Alright, alright, first of all, a Shifter is a Shape-Shifter; just like you, right? Unless… oh crap, you're one of those Native American tribes the Council lost track of. Holy crow. Okay, well, you obviously know about fangs. What about witches? Werewolves? Psychics? _

Silence.

_Quil?_ I wondered for a moment if he'd phased out. I'd gotten so caught up in my own thoughts that it was possible for him to have slipped out while I was distracted.

_Yeah, no, I'm still here. Uh, _Bella_, what council are you talking about? I _assume _you're not referring to the La Push council. And werewolves? Yeah, Sugar, we know about those. We _are_ those. But witches? Psychics? Crazy talk, girl. Hate my life… need to talk to Sam… gonna _kill _Sam…_ His thoughts became quickly jumbled, and it was evident I'd lost him. I searched through his mind and found where Sam lived and headed that way, Quil's thoughts - Sam and another native man, who I assumed was Quil himself, battling with lightsabers to the death – accompanying me along the way.

Spotting the little house, I stopped several yards into the woods. Crouching, I phased back and dressed. Slinging my messenger bag back over my shoulder, I left the woods and trekked down the gravel driveway which would lead me to the alpha.

* * *

The house was quaint; a faded brown rustic two-story cabin with white trim. Climbing the porch steps I ran my fingers over dainty, fragrant flowers which sat in antiqued tin boxes all over the porch. My eyes drifted to the front door; a faded, chipped green screen door which looked almost as battered and worn as my truck. I considered knocking, wondering if the screen door would fall from its hinges if I did so, or if it would simply crumble into a pile of green dust.

The door swiftly flew open, shattering my thoughts. The russet woman before me was breathtakingly beautiful, even despite the horrific scars marring half of her face. _Giant wolves. _Flour clung to bits of her hair, skin, and clothes. I smiled. I couldn't _not_.

"Hello," she smiled brightly, but her brows pinched together slightly. "I'm Emily. I… don't think I know you." Her voice was sweet and soothing and I found myself thinking about warm milk.

"I-I'm Bella," I stammered, feeling a bit nervous for invading claimed land. "I'm Charlie Swan's daughter." It wasn't really important information, but I knew Charlie was well-known on the reservation and I hoped my relation to him would help in my acceptance here.

I had a sneaking suspicion my assumption was well-founded when her brows unwrinkled and she looked genuinely pleased with my presence on her front porch. She pushed the screen door open and took one step onto the porch, the scent of jasmine and vanilla radiating from her.

"Bella, it's so good to meet you," she exclaimed. For just a moment I thought she might even hug me. "Please come in, Sweetie."

_Crap. _

I knew from Quil's mind that Emily was the Alpha's mate, and it could be considered a disrespect if I didn't fulfill her invitation. But on the other hand, it was common knowledge that one Shifter should not enter the dwelling of another Shifter unless invited by said Shifter, especially if their mate is present. I bit my lip, unsure of how to proceed.

"Ah, um, thank you. That's v-very kind of you, Emily," I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. "I…uh, came to speak to Sam. It's urgent, and um, I think I should wait out here for him." I looked to her, regret in my eyes, hoping to see understanding in hers.

Her brows instantly knotted together again, and my hopes for understanding plummeted.

"Why do you need to see Sam?" I caught something in her voice – a guardedness allowing itself to be known.

_Crap._

I knew my next words would do me no favors with this woman. But I had no time to concoct a cover story.

"Erm… well, I c-can't tell you that." I sputtered ridiculously, mortified of what must be going through her mind. "I'm very sorry."

She cocked her head before wryly drawling "Alright, wait here, Bella Swan." And then she was gone and the door was shut and I felt the deep pangs of guilt.

I took a few steps back from the porch, not wanting to make the alpha feel threatened. I could hear Emily inside as she called Sam's name. They spoke in hushed tones for a moment; I was too far away to make out the conversation, but it was not difficult to hear the unease in both of their voices.

The door opened and Sam appeared, filling the entire doorway with his body. His eyes raked over my small frame, and his body noticeably relaxed from its defensive stance infinitesimally; his mind clearly wrongly regarding me as unthreatening because of my size. I rolled my eyes.

"You." His voice was almost as deep as Julian's; a heavy baritone, thick with authority. From just the one word he had spoken, his voice had grated on my nerves. Internally, I fought to keep my inner animal locked down.

"Me." I kept my voice quiet and my body as loose and relaxed as possible as he approached me, but my voice appeared to cause a similar reaction in his own body as he visibly forced down the tremors of a phase. I did not want a fight, but I was not going to submit either. He closed the distance between us, nostrils flaring as he took in my scent.

The ever-present animal in any Shifter relies heavily upon scent. Emotions, gender, species, fertility cycles – so easily read in one good sniff.

He halted mere inches from me, bending himself to bury his nose in my hair, a series of quick, short sniffs traveling over my scalp. I could feel myself turn cherry as his nose brushed past my hair, grazing my neck before planting itself behind my ear where it inhaled me long and deep. My body had never known such an intimate gesture.

I had phased just once before with a wolf pack; some years ago, while attending one of the Council's notorious training camps. That pack was comprised of just four shifters. And those four shifters were _nothing_ like this. There was… _something_ about these La Push wolves. An underlying intensity, unmistakably _male. _

When Sam had sufficiently breathed in every last bit of me, he made to step back, a sound akin to purring emanating from his throat. I caught him, gripping his arm and holding him in his place at my neck, the animal in me needing just as urgently to ease its uncertainty. Turning my head, my nose aligned itself with his neck, drawing in the alpha's unique scent.

_Patchouli. Peppermint. Nature. **Family**. _

Underlying his own scent was that which I recognized as his mate's – _jasmine and vanilla. _Their combined scents were nothing short of perfection, causing a break-out of goose bumps on my arms.

I could sense it as my grip on his arm eased; the smirk playing across his lips, as he straightened himself. Fleetingly, his hands reached for me, as if to grasp my shoulders, but then he seemed to think better of it, moving his hands to his pockets instead. Our respective inner animals were perceptibly more relaxed with each other, having sensed no threat. I offered him a small smile as I unclenched his arm.

"Who-" He angled his head toward me, reconsidering his choice of words. "_What_ are you?"

"Sam, you need to take me to your council so I can discuss some matters of great importance with your Elders." I spoke, careful to not inflict my alpha voice unless absolutely necessary.

He, however, exuded authority, squaring his shoulders. "And just what do you know about –"

"**Sam, take me to your Elders**." I repeated; an order this time that he could not ignore.

His eyes widened with surprise and his postured faltered just slightly. His head automatically tilted, leaving his neck exposed to me just briefly before he regained control of himself. "How did you-"

"Oh, for the love of God, Sam! **Take me to your freaking Elders**!"

He seemed stunned momentarily before a low rumbling in his chest began, quickly blossoming into a booming chuckle.

"Sorry," he said, still laughing. "You just kind of reminded me of… a vicious little kitten there for a second."

He had no idea how right he was. I cocked an eyebrow at him.

Sam gestured for me to follow him into his house, explaining that he needed to make the necessary phone calls to gather the tribe's elders. It was the closest thing to an invitation I was going to get and I eagerly pounced on it. I followed closely, afraid that if I dawdled too far behind, he'd close the door before I could enter; so closely that when he took pause to pull open the weathered screen door I slammed into his back, a boulder crashing into a brick wall.

He merely turned his head to look at me and chuckled as flames engulfed my face.

Entering Sam and Emily's little house, I was immediately struck with an assortment of smells. Patchouli, peppermint, jasmine, and vanilla were, expectedly, the most potent. But, apart from their own scents, and the delicious aroma of freshly baked blueberry pie, a number of other smells lingered on chairs and cushions, and permeated the air and the walls. I inhaled, taking in the scents as deeply into my lungs as I could.

_Clove and fir. Wintergreen and eucalyptus. Anise, tobacco, and autumn leaves. Ginger and rose. Gardenia. Apricot and cinnamon. _

And, also present there among the fragrances were the very ones from my truck, minus the motor oil and stale cigarette smoke. And underlying them all, the heady and familiar scent intrinsic to all Shifters – _nature_.

_Family. _

I began to feel a dizziness settle over me, overcome with foreign emotions, and a deep-seated demand which boiled at the pit of my stomach.

_Mine. _

I had never had the sense of rightfully belonging anywhere or with anyone.

I had, of course, known the love of family through my mother and my grandparents and Charlie. I knew I was loved and wanted, that my family cared about me. But this possessive… longing I was feeling – it was something completely new to me.

I _wanted_ to be here.

_Would they ever want me here?_

My lungs ached to fill themselves with the combination of those specific scents – the unique fragrances of each member of Sam's pack, I was certain. Of course his house would reek of them all – he was their Alpha. Their big brother, their leader. _Family._

The room swayed.

I hadn't been asked to sit yet, so I crouched against a wall in the entryway, propping my elbows on my knees and sinking my face into the palms of my hands. It would have been impolite to throw up in the alpha's doorway, but I was questioning my will to keep the contents of my dinner in my stomach.

_Too much. _The entire day's events were weighing heavily upon me.

Emily's face appeared in the doorway to her kitchen, her mouth open as if she were about to say something to me. It snapped shut as her brows furrowed in worry.

"Bella? Are you alright?" She jogged to the place I'd taken on her floor.

"I-I…" I couldn't manage more than that, feeling bile rising in my throat. I clamped a hand over my mouth, pleading with my eyes for her help.

A split second of hesitation clouded her eyes before she registered what was about to happen and duly took charge of the situation. Grabbing my elbow, she hurled my body up with impressive force and ran with me, leading me to a small bathroom. I lunged for the toilet, guilt washing over me that she had to witness this disgusting display of my inability to cope with the fear of rejection; something which was entirely alien to me.

Emily, however, seemed only sympathetic as she gathered my hair behind my head. She placed a clip in it to hold it in place, and as I continued to lurch into her toilet, she wetted a washcloth and placed it delicately on the back of my neck.

_What a first impression._

When I had emptied everything from my stomach and flushed it all down the toilet, Emily leaned down to where I was still crouched. "You okay now, Bella?" She whispered, her breath shifting my hair next to my ear. She placed a hand under my arm and helped me to my feet, guiding me back into the hallway and then into the kitchen where she handed me a can of gingerale from the fridge.

"F-fine… I'll… be…" my sentence hung, unfinished, in the air as I felt a chain of fire snake up my spine and a fierce tingling in the pink mark on my arm, so much more intense than it was at the diner.

It hit me then.

_Cardamom. Lemongrass. Nutmeg.  
_

"Whoa, dude! She's like…" the voice was familiar, and I realized it was the voice with which I'd spoken in the pack mind. Quil. "…a hot Yoda!"

He came around to my left side, hulking over me by about a foot – well over six feet tall – and covered in bulky, rounded muscles. He approached me, head down, with furrowed brows and a look of intensity burned in his chocolate eyes from beneath dense eyelashes. I didn't miss it when his nostrils flared scarcely, nor the sharp intake of breath. "Fine, I'll be." His deep voice echoed my words in monotone, and he retained his serious demeanor for just a moment before his face betrayed him by breaking into an impish, and very contagious, grin.

I giggled, forgetting about everything that had been on my mind, including my embarrassment and the tingling in my arm which was oddly quickly receding, and focused on opening my can of soda.

"Quil, honestly," Emily huffed. Faster than my eyes could catch, Emily had reached over and slapped the back of Quil's buzzed head. His hands shot out in front of him, defensively, as he ducked from further abuse.

I felt, more than saw, Quil's eyes rake over my body and linger briefly at my chest. When I looked at him, he had an eyebrow quirked at me and a small smile, as if he knew something I didn't.

"Hey, gal," he said, his voice raised at least ten octaves higher than it had been just seconds before and his eyes going impossibly wide, startling me. "How ya looking?!" And then his face went expressionless.

I looked at Emily, who was looking at me with a look of utter confusion which I was sure matched my own. We both looked back to Quil, who huffed in impatience and stared wide-eyed at my chest, jutting his chin out and cocking his head. I blushed crimson under the attention my breasts were receiving, but when he didn't stop ogling them I finally looked down.

It clicked then.

The four little stick-figure girls on my shirt –Teen Girl Squad. They had delighted me hours before at the airport, but I had all but forgotten them since. I recovered as quickly as I could. "So good." I replied, my voice unsure of itself and almost inaudible.

"No, no, that just ain't gonna do, girl," Quil explained. "If you're gonna play, you gotta play right."

Alright, then. _Why the hell not?_

"SOOO GOOD!" I exclaimed, trying to match the high-pitch his voice had taken.

He smirked, seeming pleased with himself. "Oh man," he said, letting out a sigh and leaning back on his elbows against the countertop. "Just wait 'til Embry hears his woman made Sam's house smell like up-chucked ground beef and –" he sniffed the air, "- veggie soup!"

Sam entered the kitchen just at moment, raising his hand and whacking the back of Quil's skull so nonchalantly that it seemed to be an hourly activity in their house.

After goodbyes and nice-to-meet-yous, Sam and I were on our way to the council meeting. I could feel another wave of nausea approaching.


	5. Beguiled

**Suggested Listening: **

They Might Be Giants – Bangs

Figurine - Stranger

The Wedding Present – Always the Quiet One (seriously, ladies, if you have a shy man or like a shy man, listen to this song - it's completely adorable)

You Were Spiraling – Excellent Body

* * *

**_And so, I watch you walk away  
And then waste my whole day  
Imagining the things you do  
Like how you're bound to love quiet men  
And if we meet again  
How I'd actually speak to you…_**

* * *

**Chapter Five  
**_Beguiled_

* * *

**Embry POV**

I was jittery.

Emily's flight had been delayed; something we were unaware of until we were already at the airport. So we sat. And we waited. And we drank coffee. We drank a _lot _of coffee, because the girl working in the airport café was blonde and had large breasts and Paul was working his special brand of magic on her.

She gave us free coffee and scones, so I couldn't find it in me to be anything less than pleased with the situation.

I'd knocked back well over a dozen cups of coffee in the span of an hour and a half. Our bodies typically burned things like caffeine and alcohol off in no time, but this had apparently been a test of its limits and it was taking its sweet time recovering from the shock of the caffeine.

Paul wasn't faring much better; and, since he'd gotten the call from Jared about the bloodsuckers, he'd become a relentless force of constant motion.

Pacing, bouncing, twitching, swaying.

Eventually, his behavior had understandably started to scare the coffee shop girl, and we overheard her ask her manager to make us leave the café.

We did so ourselves before it got to that; standing just outside the café, Sam ordered Paul to stand still. The order, taking effect straightaway, froze Paul mid-stride. For a moment he had the eerie appearance of a mannequin before his face contorted in fury.

I slipped away then under the guise of checking arrival times, hoping to avoid the inevitable bitchfest that was bound to ensue between the alpha and his third.

I didn't check the times.

I had instead set out on an aimless stroll, looking to burn minutes and caffeine, when I spotted a fresh mass of people coming in, heading toward the baggage claim. And, even though I knew it was beyond all reason, I scanned the new faces for Emily in the hope that we could leave the airport before Paul got us all arrested.

But Emily was quickly forgotten. Paul was forgotten. Sam was forgotten. My caffeine overdose was forgotten.

_Lust. _

The all-consuming force which drives the average male teenage mind. I had always thought I was above it, having instead been heavily preoccupied with comic books, video games, and sci-fi movies. But in that instant it became quite clear that I was nothing if not just another average teenage male.

The girl was looking down, wrestling with the strap of her bag and reproaching it under her breath.

"Friggin' piece of crap, I swear if you don't quit coming undone I will _cut you!" _She threatened in a whisper. My heart fluttered – fucking _fluttered. _

She was tiny. I wondered if she even topped five foot. And she couldn't have weighed more than 100 pounds, soaking wet.

_She'd look _so_ good soaking wet; drops of water clinging to those long eyelashes, flawless pale skin exposed, long brown locks of hair clinging to her breasts. _I reprimanded myself internally for being such a perv, shaking my head in an attempt to rid it of images that were beginning to stir a physical reaction.

It _really_ didn't work.

She seemed to give up on the strap, biting her lower lip before blowing out a puff of air toward the curtain of hair draping over her forehead. My jaw dropped as she lifted her chin and raised her eyelids to reveal the most perfect coffee-colored doe eyes before turning her gaze to the conveyor belt filled with luggage. She glared at it, and I waited - and hoped - for her to start threatening it too. I caught myself grinning, looking nothing short of idiotic as I stared puppy-eyed and drooling at the feisty little woman several yards away.

She had flopped herself down into one of the plastic chairs, no longer staring at the suitcases at all. Her eyes were trained on the floor, and I wished I knew what she was thinking.

I took advantage of the moment; my eyes darting over her petite frame. I wanted to commit this woman to memory.

Her little feet were covered by pink Converse sneakers. _So hot.  
_Long legs were clad in faded, worn denim.  
Her bag was a vintage olive-colored canvas military bag, with barely a scrap of material left uncovered by little one-inch buttons. _Oh sweet baby Jesus, this woman should be in my life.  
_Her shirt was a white baseball-style t-shirt with black sleeves and four little stick figure girls I recognized from Homestar Runner. She was idly fingering the hem of it, unknowingly lifting it just enough to give me a glimpse of the milky skin of her flat stomach. _Outta your league, dude. Way. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Your. League. _

"Dude," Paul's voice snapped me back into reality. "…you about done eye-molesting that poor broad over there?"

I tore my eyes away from _my dream girl_ to find Paul nodding his head as his eyes traveled over her body, demonstrating his sickening approval of what he saw.

"What the hell ever, man." I rolled my eyes, and let out the breath I'd unknowingly been holding. "Sam let you off the wall early so you could have _some_ fun at recess too?" I scoffed, wishing like hell that he'd quit looking at _her._

Wish granted.

He looked at me, eyes narrowing. "No," he spoke coolly. "I was sent to retrieve the goddamned creeper everyone's starting to notice." He cocked an eyebrow. He turned then, shoving through the crowd. I followed, reluctant to abandon the most perfect view I'd ever seen.

For the first time in my life, I found myself wishing I were a little more like Paul Lahote. Granted, I was pretty sure that if it weren't for the werewolf gene he'd be a breeding ground for pretty much any and every STD on the market. But at least he could function around girls; form actual words and even structure those words in such a way to make a complete sentence. He might even have been able to hold his own in an actual conversation with a girl; though, I was pretty sure things never progressed like _that_ for him.

Still. Paul would have approached her. Paul would have _been able to _approach her. In my mind, pretty girls were scary; walking works of art I was unworthy of seeing. And this girl was downright terrifying. I was caught in an internal battle; wanting to both run to her and away from her at once.

As we approached Sam, I made the decision to keep my back turned to her or I'd never have heard the end of it from my brothers.

I stood, facing Paul and Sam, as Paul resumed a mannequin-like stance beside our Alpha. It reminded me of the first episode of the new Doctor Who when Autons were on the attack. It was a good distraction for me, and I tried to mentally tally the number of Doctor Who episodes I'd watched in my lifetime.

I'd only made it to twelve, repeatedly catching myself subconsciously angling my body in the direction I so desperately wanted to look, when Sam's phone rang with an update from Jacob.

Paul and I listened, easily hearing Jacob's side of the conversation. He confirmed it; new trails were found of the three unfamiliar leech scents on our land that Paul and Leah had found while patrolling several weeks prior. Sam tensed considerably at the news, instructing his beta to send more wolves to patrol until we returned.

Paul looked like he was ready to phase from his place on the wall.

"Shit, Paul, just spill it – whatever you've got to say." Sam rolled his eyes, and leaned into the wall.

"Sam, we hafta get back _now!" _Paul, shoving himself away from the wall and aiming his livid face at Sam's, was already on thin ice. I felt myself wince a little on his behalf, anticipating a real shit storm being brought down upon him by our Alpha. "Emily will be fine." _Wince. _"The _tribe_ needs us now." _Wince. _"The leeches have come back!" He clenched his hands into tight fists, and I half-expected him to punch a hole through the wall. Instead, visibly fighting for control of himself, he jammed them into his pockets before heaving a breath of frustrated exhaustion. "How the hell can you be so _calm_?!" A sharp pain shot through cheeks from the intensity this wince had produced.

Sam's heartbeat sped up, pounding heavily in his chest. The heady scent of angered adrenaline radiated from both of them. I glanced around, surprised that we didn't have an audience, and still willing myself to not look at _her_. Sam's grinding teeth pulled my attention back to the testosterone battle.

"We. **WILL**. Wait. For my imprint, Lahote." Sam seethed, and this time Paul had sense enough to wince for himself. I missed whatever Sam said next, hearing his voice but not the words, as I witnessed Paul's demeanor crumble back against the wall in defeat.

And then something in the air changed; a static-electricity that wasn't there before, causing the hairs on my neck to stand. I looked at my pack brothers, whose expressions of agitation matched my own feelings.

We heard it then. The low rumble of a challenge. _A growl, _similar in its sound to Leah's or maybe one of the younger pups'. But they were all back in La Push.

My head shot up, instinctually jerking over my shoulder to check on _her_; to make sure _she _was safe. Her eyes were studying the floor, her chest rising and falling evenly. I turned back to Sam, feeling infinitesimally calmer, but still on edge.

"What. The. Hell. Was _that_?" Sam sounded panicked.

I understood it; his fiancée, his imprint, his _whole world_ was set to arrive at any given minute. I was freaking out over the safety of a girl who, admittedly was the most adorable fucking thing I'd ever laid eyes on, but was still nothing more than a stranger to me when it came right down to it. Emily was the most precious thing in Sam's life; the one thing that he kept him grounded, kept him… _him. _

"Embry," his brows laced together. "Did you hear where it came from?"

I turned; facing the same direction he was – _toward her_ – and felt it immediately as her gaze swept over me, like a breath of fresh air.

_Jesus._

I couldn't bring myself to meet her gaze, keeping my eyes well-trained on anything besides _her. _"N-no, man, I dunno where it came from." In my mind, a mantra of _don't look at her, don't look at her, don't look at her. _"Paul, dude, let's go check things out." Sam conceded, and we headed off, every fiber in my body trying to pull me closer to _her. _

"Maybe there _was_ a good reason to come here." Paul murmured. I knew he was referring to Emily's protection and the potential threat which loomed here, but as we drew we closer to _her_ –my eyes still avoiding her at all costs – I couldn't help but enthusiastically agree with him, albeit it for entirely different reasons.

And then my eyes won their battle, fleetingly playing over the features of her face. Her eyes were down again – or maybe _still_, though I was so sure she had looked at me – but just before I looked away, she smiled just a hint of smile, and I tripped. _Fucking tripped._

_Werewolves do not trip. Don't look. Don't look. Don't look._

We made it to the end of the terminal, unable to pick out any suspicious scents, and headed back toward Sam.

My heart quickened as we drew closer to the adorable girl. She was standing now. And it occurred to me that it would be _so_ simple to just smile and say hi to her… if I were anyone else but me.

Hell, it had taken all the years between second grade and ninth to finally work up the courage to talk to my first and, really, only crush.

And _that_ had resulted in a fit of stammering. She had laughed, her friends had laughed. The whole goddamn school had laughed for what seemed like days.

My crush quickly ended after that.

The only other time I'd managed to run my mouth to a pretty girl was shortly after I had phased. Paul had slipped an impressive amount of liquor to a bonfire. Between him, Jared, and myself, we'd managed to consume it all in a very short amount of time and achieved a pretty good buzz. I had approached a girl I was pretty sure was good-looking; took her to my house, sloppily made out with her for a while before having entirely forgettable sex with her, sufficiently wasting my first kiss and my virginity.

She left very nearly the instant I rolled off of her, patting me on the back before she went. I had thrown up afterward, unsure if it was from drunkenness or self-disgust.

And so it was to be, I thought, that I should fall ridiculously in love with this stranger from afar. I would never have the courage to approach her, but I could appreciate her nonetheless. Obsess over her for months, imagining what it would have been like to be with her, the conversations we'd have had, wondering what she was doing at any given moment. Wondering if she was as lonely as I was.

_Pathetic._

I chanced a look at her. She was glaring at the conveyor belt with conviction again, being unabashedly cute with her lower lip stuck out and her eyebrows wrinkled together.

I wasn't sure how we'd veered so close to her, but before I knew it we were right behind her; close enough that I could feel her body's heat.

If I were more like Paul, I could get away with pinching her cute little ass. Or snake an arm around her shoulder and lean my face close to hers, whispering something in her ear which would charm the pants off of her. Or maybe just tell her I liked her shoes. And her shirt. And her bag with its buttons. And her adorable bangs. And her full lips.

As if he'd heard my thoughts, Paul sprang into me - just hard enough to set me off balance. I teetered a bit, unable to stabilize my posture completely before I fumbled a bit too close to _her_. My arm brushed against hers, skin to skin, a zap of electricity shocking me at the point of connection.

"Whoa, shit!" I glared at Paul, who wore an expression of smugness and nodded his head, motioning toward the girl.

_Fuck. _

I knew I was going to have to say something. Slanting my head toward her, I closed my eyes for just a second to try to collect myself. "Erm… sorry." My voice shaky, it was all I could manage before all but sprinting back to Sam, rubbing the tingling spot on my arm; Paul trailing just behind me, chuckling heartily at my expense.

Sam and Paul stood beside me, scanning the crowd in their continued effort to find the source of the growl we'd heard. I was lost in my mind, ridiculously satisfied at having felt _her_ soft skin, wishing I could touch more of it.

I was pulled from my inner musings by Paul. Again.

"What about her?" I heard him say, tilting his head toward… _her. _"She's tiny… and check out those boulders she's carrying, like it's _nothing." _

_Well, shit._

There she was, _my dream girl, _hauling around two over-stuffed enormous suitcases, with no more indication of a struggle than if were carrying a an empty shoebox. It was a bit off-putting, but it didn't stop my eyes from enjoying the view of her backside until she whirled her head around toward us forcefully. Momentarily I thought I was caught staring at her ass and I felt blood rushing to my face. But if had in fact noticed it at all, she didn't seem bothered by it.

She eyed Sam with a playful twinkle, and I felt a sharp pang of jealousy.

"Guilty!" She crooned quietly, her voice feminine and sweet. "See you in La Push, _wolf boys…"_ Our jaws collectively dropped in shock and she changed her focus to Paul, winking before turning her head back around and darting gracefully through the crowd.

She was gone.

It took us mere seconds to recover from the shock, but she was _gone_.

Paul was pissed. She was gone, and she knew our secret, and she was… something strong, something unknown.

Sam was nervous. She was gone, and she knew our secret, and she was something strong, something unknown, and she had been here, where his Emily was.

I was sad. She was gone, and I had no idea who she was or where she was going or when I'd see her again. She had said she'd see us in La Push, but she didn't say when. And, even though she knew our secret and she was something strong and unknown, I'd felt her; I knew she wasn't a bloodsucker. What that meant exactly, I wasn't sure. But I wasn't about to make judgments before I knew the facts.

And she was so fucking cute.

* * *

Sam instructed me to head to Forks in wolf form and head to the Cullen house. It was obvious he wanted to accompany me, but Paul was in no condition to be left alone with Emily. Even if Paul managed not to phase while she was with him, the odds of him being anything less than offensive were bleak. And Sam wouldn't risk putting his imprint in a car with someone who seemed incapable of obeying traffic laws. So, Sam and Paul both stayed behind to wait for her. Sam told me he'd call Jacob to meet me.

Quil was phased as I made the run from Port Angeles to Forks. My mind was an unstoppable force, flooded with every detail I'd noticed about _her_, every feeling I'd felt. Regret pulsed through me for not having spoken more than two words to her.

_Dude, she was fucking hot_. _You easily coulda hit that, bro. I bet she's totally the type who digs geeky shy dudes. _I could see through his mind that Quil was spinning in a circle, chasing his tail.

_Great. Girl advice from the pack retard. _I scoffed.

He paused, his wolf body his twisted. _That hurts, man. That cuts me real deep. _And then he caught his tail, yelping as he bit down on it.

Jake phased then, both of us headed toward the residence of the Cullens; our very own local "vegetarian" bloodsuckers.

He got to the colossal house in the woods just moments before me, already phased back and dressed when I arrived. I phased back far enough from the house to remain unseen as I pulled on just the shorts I'd worn to the airport, tucking the t-shirt into my back pocket.

"Ready for this?" Jake asked as we drew closer to the house. But before I could answer, the door flew open and a pasty man and woman appeared right in front of us before the door even closed behind them. The stench assaulted us immediately.

The man, as it turned out, was the head of their coven and the woman was his mate. We learned from Dr. and Mrs. Cullen that the three scents we'd come across on our land were likely those of three nomad vampires that had approached them one day weeks before while _the family _were playing a game of baseball. The nomads had passed back through, stopping by the Cullens' for a short visit.

_Fucking baseball. Fucking Cullens._

The wolf pack was comprised of a group of teenagers, the youngest one phasing when he was just 14 years old. We had had to make sacrifices; our grades, girlfriends, social lives, favorite past-times, scholarships, travel, college, reputation. We took our role seriously and with as much pride as we could. Rumors had persisted about us; drugs, gang, cult.

But none of that mattered, really. Not after we had started phasing.

We protected our people fiercely from the threat of vampires. The gene was inherited, but only activated because of the sustained presence of the Cullens. And so it was that, as we sacrificed everything and worked our asses off, the assholes - who were responsible for what had happened to my brothers, my sister, myself – lived comfortably in their mansion with their extensive collection of expensive cars, traveled often, completed their educations multiple times over, had more money than they knew what to do with, and played fucking _baseball._

They were very polite though.

I scowled, trying to get past the ball of bitter annoyance in the pit of my stomach, and Carlisle assured us that the drifters were just passing through. We left it at that, unable to tolerate the burning stink of brown sugar, bleach, and death any longer. Jake, somewhat reluctantly, left his phone number with the doctor, requesting that in the future they inform us if they had any other visitors that we shouldn't rip to shreds.

I thought it was a nice touch.

Jake invited me to accompany him into town – a new part for the Rabbit had come in. I was none too anxious to hop back into the pack mind with Quil, so Jake and I walked toward town, bitching about the Cullens.

The mark on my arm – a piece of light pink evidence of the physical contact I'd had with my dream girl – began itching and tingling, its intensity growing as we made our way into town by foot. Jacob had been talking, changing the subject from the bloodsuckers – a girl he knew was moving to Forks – but I'd barely been able to make out his words after the prickly tingle had started.

Relief came as Jacob was making idle chat with a mechanic about his car, when the tingling in my arm dulled and then disappeared completely. I hadn't even been aware that we'd made it to the store.

Jake wanted to stay in town a while longer, inviting me to go along with him to visit the girl who had moved to Forks. He had fixed up Billy's old truck for her with our help, and he wanted to see how she liked it.

The day had taken its toll on me. I just wanted to go home and sleep.

* * *

_She stood before me in a forest, butterflies dancing around her head. She wore a red dress; I couldn't figure out its material – it looked like spun sugar. Her hair was down, hanging below her shoulders wildly. Her feet were bare. She held out her hand to me, and I floated across a moss-covered floor to be by her side. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed pink.  
"Where are you?" her voice, smooth and melodic. I guided her little hand to my cheek and she smiled.  
I blinked, and we were standing on a beach, the ocean lapping at our feet. She was in blue silk now, and her dress bled right into the water. I was certain it _was_ the water. Her hair was piled in sloppy bun on her head, a light wind shifting her bangs away from her still-closed eyes. The moon lit her face, somehow making her impossibly more beautiful.  
"Where are you?" She whispered, a golden tear slipping from beneath her closed lids. I took a step into her space, hovering over her tiny body, and taking her hand in mine. I guided it to my lips, pressing them to her warm skin.  
I blinked, and we were atop a cliff which overlooked that same beach. She wore a long-sleeved white muslin dress and her hair was loosely braided and draped over one shoulder. Her lips were trembling and blue, and I longed to kiss some color back into them.  
"Where are you? Where _are_ you?" She breathed. I lifted her trembling hand to my chest, placing it over my heart. Her breath caught and I leaned down, intent on drawing the breath out with my lips._

* * *

"Dude, wake the fuck up!" Quil's voice sounded muffled and excited. The sharper sound of knuckles on my window pulled me fully from my sleep.

"Ugh, Quil, I am gonna pound your a-" I looked to my window; a barely contained Quil loomed outside, bouncing from foot to foot with the biggest shit-eating grin I'd ever seen. "What d'you want, man?" I rubbed my eyes blearily, trying to force out the sleepiness. "D'you down a couple 'a cases of Mountain Dew again?" I opened the window and slipped out of it; something I'd become accustomed to doing since phasing.

"Wha – No, dude, listen. She's _here. _And she was _in my head_ and it was like… like, WHOA!" He held his hands at either side of his head, demonstrating an explosive-like gesture with his fingers.

"Right," My voice was hoarse. "It was a just a dream, Quil. I've told you before – Leah can't actually make your brain explode when you're phased togeth-"

"No, Embry, _she's_ here. Your chick – the one from the airport, bro!" He had me by the shoulders, shaking me. "She's on the rez – she's gone to talk to Sam."

I bolted, Quil hot on my heels as we ran for Sam's house, my feet carrying me there on instinct. My head was buzzing, and we'd gotten to Sam's yard before I could collect my thoughts, before I even realized we had left my house. It wasn't until the tingling in my arm started up again that I became fully aware of our surroundings.

She was here, Quil had said.

The yard was empty, but I could smell Sam's familiar scent; fresh and crisp in the air. It was mingled with something else – something intoxicating.

_Lavender. Chamomile. Honey. _

"Em, do you smell that?" Quil lifted his nose, flaring his nostrils. "What the hell is _that_? Is that _her? _Holy shit. She smells… dude, she smells…so..." I could hear it, the quiet purr in his chest. He didn't have to finish his sentence; I knew how it ended.

_Fucking edible._

**_MINE._**

I shook my head, trying to clear the dizziness settling upon me, and bent over to rest my hands on my knees.

"Em, y'alright, man?" Quil placed a hand on my back, and it was all I could do to not rip it off. "I think she's inside, dude."

My heart stuttered at the thought of her being so close, being on our land, being _here._ I nodded, forcing myself upright and taking a step forward. My chest tightened, my stomach lurched.

Christ.

_She_ was _here. _

_Out. Of. Your. Fucking. League. _My mind was screaming at me to turn around.

I halted.

"Em, are you comin'?" Quil's eyebrows were high on his forehead, scrunched together.

I broke into a sweat, swaying on my feet from dizziness.

"Ah, I… I don't think…" I swallowed hard, making a silent plea to Quil with my eyes.

"Want me to grab you a muffin, bro?" A gentle understanding in his eyes, I knew Quil wouldn't push me. He'd known me my whole life, knew that my ability to function around girls, in general, was less than great.

And this girl… no one had ever sparked my interest like she had, from her pink Converse to her bangs. I felt pretty certain that if I got within ten feet of her again, I'd just cease to exist – maybe die at her feet, maybe just disappear entirely.

I shook my head and watched as Quil disappeared into the house.

And then I promptly threw up. In my alpha's yard.


	6. Welcome to Hogwarts

**A/N: **Welcome, new and old readers! It's entirely possible that this will be my last chapter until after the insanity of Christmas has passed. I wanted to wish you all Happy Holidays (if you celebrate, of course). There's another note at the bottom of this; information relevant to this story, as well as a request for a little feedback on something! Take a look!

**Suggested Listening:  
**Metallic Falcons – Snakes and Tea  
Clap Your Hands Say Yeah – The Skin of My Yellow Country Teeth  
The Smiths – Sing Me to Sleep

* * *

**Chapter Six  
**_Welcome to Hogwarts_

**BPOV**

The tribal elders had gathered at the Akalat Center for our meeting; seated in a row, collectively looking serious and imposing with mouths drawn tight against clenched teeth. I studied their russet faces, my eyes playing over new wrinkles on some familiar faces. I was surprised to find that I recognized over half of them from my childhood. _Charlie's best friends._

"Bella Swan?" Billy Black sat in the center, to each side he was flanked by two other members. He smiled warmly at me, the tension in his face melting away as I nodded in affirmation. "Well, Sam, do you wanna tell us why you've brought Chief Swan's daughter before us? You were pretty mysterious on the phone."

Sam stood beside me, countering my wary uncertainty with a daunting confidence. Clearing his throat, he glanced at me from the corner of his eye for a moment. "To be honest, Billy, Miss Swan has not yet told me what her business with the council is." At his confession, the members of the council looked mutually annoyed. "However," he proceeded, "it has become very clear to me that we should hear her out. It is a matter of tribal business."

Billy sniffed a little, tightening his jaw, and repositioned his gaze from Sam to me. "Okay, Miss Swan, you certainly got the attention of our Al- of _Sam_. What matter did you wish to bring before the council?"

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, wringing my hands nervously. _Public speaking. _My voice shaky, "Well…"

* * *

Shocked. Astounded. Dumbfounded. Stunned.

I had expected an outpouring of disbelief, bewilderment.

Instead, my revelation of what I was and what I could do was met with burning gazes of… vacancy. Well-trained empty expressions. And not one of them – not even Billy – said a word.

Sam was the first to break the silence, admitting to the members that _he _– I assumed he was making reference to his wolf – had recognized a kinship with me. And not only that, but had also felt the weight of my command, and had been unable to fight it.

Old Quil, who I had never once heard speak, not even in the days I'd spent in La Push as a child, requested I prove my abilities before the council.

Sam had protested; nervous about werewolves shifting indoors and in the presence of humans. _Werewolves, _I scoffed internally. _So much to learn._ But, recalling the scars upon the face of his Emily, I did my best to reassure him, revealing my training and confessing that I'd been shifting for nearly five years.

_Those_ facts earned the looks of shock and awe I had been previously expecting.

He relented, and I was handed a tattered blanket and sent to an adjoining room to undress. When I returned, swathed only in itchy wool, Sam had stepped back several feet from where he'd previously stood, allowing me adequate space to shift.

I had a fleeting feeling of déjà vu, having had to stand and shift before the Council of Shifters on occasion for similar purposes.

I phased first into my wolf, knowing this would be the form with which they'd all be most familiar. But I allowed no time for reaction – beyond the look of relief I detected on Sue Clearwater's face - quickly shifting to horse form. One of my favorites. I could hear the quickened beating of hearts, the sharp intake of breath, and heavy footfalls approaching me from behind.

"It's… incredible." Sam breathed as he held out a hand, reaching the base of my neck and patting it before backing up again.

And then my shape changed once again; my long black body slinking across the hard floor like liquid, finding Sam's feet and curling around them. The action elicited a rough howl of surprised laughter from the alpha, which he stifled with a cough.

* * *

We were headed to Seattle.

Sam and I sat in the back of an old truck with Billy's wheelchair; Billy, Old Quil, and Sue Clearwater occupied the front. I called Charlie on the way, feeding him the fabricated story Sam had concocted; that I'd met up with Emily Young and Leah Clearwater and had been invited to join them in camping. It was a lame excuse, and I didn't miss the choking sound he'd made when he learned of the company I was allegedly keeping, but it was believable enough that Charlie bought it. When we'd ended our conversation I made a call to the Council's secretary.

_"This is Jamison, how may I be of assistance?" _The nasal voice dripped from the phone.

"Jamison, it's Izzy Higginbotham."

_"Oh, Miss Higginbotham! How are you? I heard you moved in with your father."_ He said, not one for beating 'round the bush, just jumping right in to gossip.

"I did, and I'm okay. But I need your help." I paused for a beat, glancing at Sam who was studying me. "There's a Native American tribe located near Forks, in La Push. Um… the Quileutes. They have the shifter gene – wolves." Another glance at Sam; his eyes had not left my face. "They, um, don't have a l-lot of knowledge about our laws or… other races… or… anything."

_"Ahhh."_ Jamison crooned. _"One of those lost tribes!" _ His voice was positively oozing with excitement. I wondered briefly how the Quileute boys would take to being ogled by the over-the-top flamboyant peacock.

"Right." I conceded, "Can you get Veda there soon – she's good at explaining… everything."

_"Mmhmm, anything else, Highness?" He quipped._

"Funny. No, I think -"

Before I could finish, I heard a beeping noise which signalled the end of our call. I closed my phone, shoving it into my bag, and rubbed my hand over my face. It had been a long, emotionally exhausting day.

And Sam was still staring at me, expression blank and unrevealing.

"What?" I snapped, glowering.

"Izzy… _Higginbotham_?" He lifted an eyebrow.

I sighed, "It's my mother's maiden name." It was all I was willing to share on the matter, and Sam didn't push. The thought crossed my mind that perhaps, someday, we would delve into such personal matters. But I wasn't ready to expose that side of me.

The ride was spent in silence after that. The wind whirled around our heads, provoking the occasional chuckle from Sam when my hair would fly against him. It felt… comfortable.

* * *

The Thornton Building.

Big. Tall. Shiny.

We parked across the street and, once Sam had gotten Billy situated in his chair, we walked to the front entrance, careful to avoid the many speeding cars and cyclists. The men, as anticipated, took pause to appreciate the building's impressive architecture as I went ahead of them, entering the building and approaching the front desk. Sue, however, remained quiet and moving, keeping pace directly behind me and rolling her eyes at the men.

To the humans of Seattle, the Thornton Building was the home of the largest art collection in the state. To the mythics, it was the home of the largest supernatural council in the country; third in the whole world.

Jamison was already there, awaiting our arrival at the front desk.

"Hello, Jamison. I've brought the Elders of the Quileute tribe." I was grateful that I didn't have to try to speak in code to the usual human who attended the front desk.

"I just need your password, Sugar." He spoke, not bothering to look up from the computer at which he was typing.

"Dragonheart." I replied with my all-business voice, giving a stern look.

"The Council is waiting in the conference room, Miss Higginbotham." He looked up then, his features softening into a wry grin. "And honey, Marissa has your robe." He gave a wink. I groaned.

I had learned of the Great Council's requirement of robes during my first visit with the Council of Shifters. When in these sacred buildings, all mythics wore robes to show their race and rank. I had laughed; the image of Shifters and werewolves riding around on broomsticks at Hogwarts had been the very first thing that had popped into my head. As it turned out, the Council members did not find it amusing at all.

My own robe was a deep purple – just a touch lighter than eggplant – with a silver braided trim and belt to symbolize my _gift. _It was velvet and soft and far too exquisite for my plain, mediocre self. Its unusual trim and belt drew unwanted attention.

I made my way toward the elevator next to the front desk, Sue by my side and three confused Quileute men following behind us. When the elevator doors opened, we crowded into the box. My companions looked at the numbers, labeled one through twenty; exchanging confused glances behind my back as I pressed an unlabeled yellow button, and then pressed and held the red "STOP" button until, from somewhere above us, we heard a ding. The doors closed and the elevator began its downward descent, its red digital numbers disappearing until our ride ended.

_S2 _flashed on the display before the doors opened.

"Um, Bella, if you don't mind my asking, where are we go-" Billy was interrupted, raising his eyebrows at something over my shoulder.

Following his gaze, I saw the flash of red waves, pale skin, and sapphire-blue velvet hurdling toward us. Marissa's face was frantic; emerald eyes wide and cherry lips tight. Even in her haste, her white blouse was unwrinkled and tucked flawlessly into her black pencil skirt. Her sunset-colored hair contrasted with her blue witch's robe in the most breath-taking way. One arm flailed wildly through the air, the other clutched a deep-purple velvet garment in a death grip. _My robe. _In a way, the girl was my best friend.

"Bella!" She whisper-yelled, simultaneously shoving my arm through one sleeve of my robe. "You. Are. _LATE!" _Her voice squeaked. "A half an hour late, to be precise. You _know_ how…" She turned her head, taking in my company, "…_cranky_ they can be. Now, shoo! Get in there!" She gave me a shove.

"Well, hello to you too." I grumbled as I jammed my other arm into my robe and turned to smile through squinted eyes at her motherly reprimanding.

Two heavy, tall oak doors lead into the conference room. My robe flew out behind me as I threw them open and walked down the long corridor to the 700 year old oak table, its intricate hand-carved battle scenes covering its length from one end of the large room to the other. The Council members were seated behind it, glaring impatiently at me. Each one in a robe of the deepest aubergine.

I halted before them, the Quileute men nearly running into me and giving Sue Clearwater another opportunity to roll her eyes at them.

"Isabella," Julian's thick, warm voice washed over me. "The Council stands before you to listen to your request." His tone was all business, but he playfully winked at me, aware of my severe distaste for public speaking.

"As you are all aware, I recently r-relocated to Forks, Washington. Um… up-pon exploration of the surrounding area, I found La Push, a reservation for the Native American Quileute tribe." My face began to burn as I spoke about the home of the people mere feet behind me, knowing very little to nothing about it myself. "A s-select few Quileutes are able to shift; they were… called upon by the wolf." My throat was closing up, making it difficult to breathe and speak until I felt the gentle touch of Billy's hand at my elbow; I hadn't noticed until then that the chief had moved forward to be at my side. "They have a f-fully formed pack, I believe." And then, the last few words pushed themselves out, "You requested that all shifters that do not know about the laws of the Council be brought before you for initiation." And, finally, very loudly, "SO HERE THEY ARE!" I sucked in a deep breath, hearing the soft chuckles of both Billy and Julian.

"Well done, Isabella." Julian complimented. I was unsure if he was referring to my delivery of the Quileute Elders or my terrible delivery of my speech. "You will stay here until the initiation is complete. Where is the rest of your pack?" He looked past me.

"They are at their houses right now. They all must attend school tomorrow." I jumped as Sam's voice came from just above my head, and I became suddenly aware of the heat from his body at my back, just inches from own.

From Julian's left, Ophelia stood from her seat, lacing her well-manicured fingers together in front of her body and pursing her pouty pink lips. Her eyes, almond-shaped and a shade of blue so light it was nearly invisible, swept over our group. The hearts of the Quileute men raced in their chests, breaths hitching as she stood to her full height at just over six feet. Auburn curls cascaded past her waistline. The impact she had on men was nothing short of notorious. Her voice, like black silk, was the last nail on the coffin. "How old are your pack-mmmates?"

The three men stood gaping, eyes glazed over and fixed on the ancient beauty before them. Sue huffed, producing only a blinking reaction from her fellow tribesmen. "Sam is 19, "she spoke curtly. "The rest are 14, 16, 17, or 18." Ophelia raked her eyes over Sue's petite frame, a look of approval passing over her features before she sat down again, appearing to break the spell her body had over the men.

From the other side of Julian, a throat cleared and all eyes came to rest upon the small blonde woman with black eyes and black lipstick. She looked bored. "How large is the pack, Alpha?" She cocked her eyebrow at Sam.

"Eight. Including myself."

"And how many among you are female?" She asked, now examining and picking at a bit of chipped nail polish.

Sam's brows furrowed together. "One."

My own eyes widened as I heard gasps and whispers among the Council. Julian cleared his throat, quieting everyone.

"Only one?" He asked. "Then your pack is not complete."

From my peripheral, I noticed Old Quil take a small step forward. "Excuse me for interrupting," his voice calm and steady. "But according to our legends, there are rarely more than two or three wolves in our packs. Always men. This is the largest the pack has ever been, and our Leah Clearwater has been the very first female in our tribe's history to phase." As he spoke, Sue stood impossibly taller.

"Well then," a booming, gruff voice from the far right of the table, "your _legends_ must be incorrect." He snorted. "Or the women of your tribe must be _unequipped_ to become Shifters." Kuri kept his face down, his thick black beard moving against the table as he spoke.

Billy, Sue, and Sam had stiffened at Kuri's words. I, myself, bristled at them. But it was Old Quil who glared mercilessly. If looks could kill, Old Quil would have turned the entire Council to ash before our eyes.

"_Isabella,"_ Kuri pointed his gray eyes at me without moving his head, my name dripping from his tongue like poison. "I have but one question for _you._"

I shifted under the weight of his steely glare. "Y-yes, Kuri?" I asked, certain I wouldn't like the question from the only Council member I'd never warmed up to.

"Why did you move onto claimed land, Isabella?" Something in his voice had shifted; the low menacing gruffness turned into authoritative demand. "Surely these…_werewolves, _as they've taken to calling themselves, were sloppy enough to have left a trail."

"It isn't that simple," My voice had grown defensive, and I could feel Sam's posture change behind me. _Defensive _for_ me? _"You _know_ the situation with my father – I did the best I could to ensure the land was unclaimed, but I just arrived in Forks _today_ to find not just one set of mythics, but two, apparently!" From behind me, I could feel Sam literally vibrating with anger.

_Family._

Kuri's mouth opened; ready to shout at me, I was certain. But Julain's hand rose, silencing the bearded oaf. And not for the first time, I was grateful that Julian was the head of the Council. Dark times would befall us all if Kuri were ever given such power.

"Marissa," Julian's gentle eyes focused on the spot beside me where my friend had materialized when Kuri had begun to question me. "Please direct the Quileute Elders, and Isabella, to their rooms. _We," _he narrowed his eyes in the direction of Kuri, "must discuss some things in private."

We were ushered quickly out of the room; awaiting the elevator's arrival to carry us further into the bowels of the Thornton Building.

The _ding_ of the elevator resounded, its doors opening to reveal a gaunt-looking bald man in a blue robe just a shade darker than Marissa's. He appeared to be talking to himself, when a Sprite man no bigger than six inches and dressed in a grass-green robe fluttered to the larger man's shoulder and perched there, next to an ear that was nearly the same size as himself. They were arguing over a lake.

I cocked an eyebrow at Marissa and chuckled. "Problems between the sprites and witches again?"

She promptly rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. "It has been _crazy_ around here… as usual." She shook her head, smiling as we piled into the elevator. "Now," She said, looking past me toward the others. "I'm leaving everyone's keys with Bella; you can all choose your own rooms. You'll all be staying on the sublevel-fourth floor of the Shifter's Guild. Bella knows the way." Marissa stated plainly as the doors started to close.

Sue protested, shoving her arm between the doors to prevent them closing. "We can't stay here; I have children at home expecting their mother to return. Can't this wait?"

I sighed, feeling deeply sympathetic. This was the way of the Council; forcing people to stay against their will. _Very welcoming._

Marissa frowned. "I do apologize – to all of you, but it's the Council's orders. You'll be here until they give the OK." She tried her best to sound consoling, but was met only with Sue's icy glare. "There are phones in each room for your use. Are… are your children v-very small? We could possibly arrange for a sit-"

Sam's booming laughter cut her off. "Please don't worry about it – Marissa, right? Sue's kids can handle themselves." He chuckled again, and Sue huffed.

Marissa jumped on the momentary distraction and stepped back, hitting the button to close the doors. "Don't hesitate to call if you need anything!" She brightly smiled, a look of triumph playing over her features before we were staring at only the closed doors.

Once again, I pressed the unlabeled yellow button and then pressed and held the red "STOP" button until we heard the ding and felt the slight lurch as the elevator began to descend again.

"Bella," Billy's voice came from my side, "how does that work?" He gestured to the buttons.

I smiled. "Thought-controlled." I supplied, still finding that small detail amazing.

"Oh." He was very quiet after that.

The elevator opened to a hallway which looked like it was taken straight from a luxury hotel. I held out my hand to the Quileutes, room keys resting on my palm until each had taken one. My own key had been in my other hand; the key to a room I'd come to consider my own as I'd spent several weeks in it shortly after I'd started phasing to allow the Council to assess my gift.

"Your room number is on the key." I explained, stopping at my door to jam the key into the lock. The elegant, gold _7_ on the front of the door shimmered as I turned the knob and opened it.

The room was nothing short of perfect. An antique oak dresser sat battered on one side of the room; its most recent coat of gray paint chipped and faded to reveal at least three other shades of paint below it. Across from the dresser was an old wrought iron queen size bed covered with a thick down-filled amethyst comforter and half a dozen fluffy pillows of varying sizes in different shades of purple. A tree stump nightstand stood beside the bed with only an antique alarm clock, a simple white lamp, and a black candlestick phone on its top. A white door on the other side of the nightstand lead to a large bathroom with a garden tub and a steam shower. Nothing extravagant. Nothing fancy. _Perfect._

I collapsed on the bed, sinking into the comforter and spent the next hour on the phone with Renee; only hanging up when she insisted I get some sleep after listening to my constant yawning. I padded over to the dresser, opening the drawer to reveal piles of pajamas in my size. _Psychic rooms._ I smiled, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a tank top.

I crawled into the bed, replaying the events of the day in my mind. I was supposed to be at Charlie's house, spending my first night in my new home. In the morning I would have cooked Charlie some breakfast and unpacked my things. Instead I'd bumped into the local supernaturals, gotten a weird rash on my arm, fainted in my new truck, had the worst grocery shopping experience of my life, had an equally awkward dinner, smelled the most amazing smells my nose has ever encountered, thrown up in front of a complete stranger – in their house, convinced a group of adults to travel spontaneously travel to Seattle with me, lied to Charlie, and dealt with the Council.

And yet, despite everything, I found myself sighing contentedly as my eyelids became too heavy to keep open. I felt things – deep things – that I had never felt: a sense of belonging, of family. And though I was nervous about being rejected and unwanted, for the time being I was happy to revel in possibilities as I fell into a deep slumber.

* * *

_"Isabella, open your eyes…"_

* * *

**A/N **I'm always torn on exactly where to end these chapters. Would you all prefer longer chapters? Longer chapters would mean more time between updates. But if we go the way of longer chapters and more time between updates, I would reward reviewers with teasers for upcoming chapters.

Now, then, the robes! These were a creation of **violet eyed dreamer**, and I'm following her lead in posting sort of a reference guide for them. According to her, the robes are similar to the ones in Harry Potter. By no means do they look like your average bathrobe. The robes are worn for the purpose of distinguishing, by color, one's supernatural species. Darker color = higher rank within that species.

**Purple = Shifter  
Blue = Water Witch  
Brown = Earth Witch  
Ivory/Beige = Air Witch  
Orange = Fire Witch  
Gray/Black = Skin-Walker  
Red = Vampire  
Yellow = Psychic  
Silver = Child of the Moon  
Green = Sprite/Faerie **


	7. Preventing Ragnarok

**A/N **Alright, I know I said I'd probably not update until after the holiday, but this little chapter here just didn't want to wait to be included with what will be the next chapter. It demanded its own space.

Once again, a big thanks to **violet eyed dreamer** for letting me play with her story.

**Suggested Listening:  
**Bat For Lashes – A Forest

* * *

_"I could tell you my adventures — beginning from this morning, but it's no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then."  
-_ Lewis Carroll  
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

* * *

**Chapter Seven**  
_Preventing Ragnarok_

* * *

_"Isabella…"_

_The voice, thick with age and wisdom, deeper and richer than any I'd heard before, filled with all the anguish and all the joy in the world; it called to me from… everywhere. _

_"Open your eyes, Isabella. It is time." _

_My eyes fluttered open, unwilling to disregard the deep baritone. _

_I looked to the sky, seeing only a blanket of branches and leaves, no sky to be found at all. _

_It did not seem so terribly strange to me that, one minute I had been deep underground in Seattle and falling asleep in a familiar bed; and, in the very next instant I should open my eyes to a forest. It was peaceful here; and, just in that moment, I could not bring myself to care so much about how I had ended up on the forest floor. _

_The trees stretched and clawed their way so far into the heavens that I wondered – but only until I forgot to wonder - if I had shrunk. Droplets of water fell from leaves, landing on my cheeks before falling to the ground, where they turned into small pearls of amber. It seemed eerily normal.  
_

_The floor of the forest was well-lit by incandescent toadstools. And I began walking, unsure where to go, but then I supposed I didn't really care where I ended up, so long as I ended up somewhere. And I imagined the Cheshire cat, and his twisted grin, reminding me that it doesn't matter, then, which way I went. And that, as long as I walked long enough, I was sure to end up somewhere._

_ "Isabella. It is time." The voice came again, from nowhere and everywhere. It had said this before, but I couldn't comprehend it. My eyes darted over every tree, searching out the booming voice, but not finding it. _

_Biting my lip, I paused in my tracks. _

_"H-hello? Where am I? Who are y-you?" I whispered, unsure how to address this entity._

_"Isabella. This is your home."_

_Everything in my life had been _just_ abnormal enough that this statement seemed as normal as anything else, so I easily accepted it as truth. I let my eyes wander over my surroundings, feeling a definite acquaintance with them. But, at the same time, I knew I had never been here before; I would certainly have remembered such a place. _

_The trees were old. Ancient, really. I reached my hand out to one, a colossal ash tree, fingers tumbling over rough, worn bark. It was the eldest tree here, by far; there was no question about that. I closed my eyes, trying to envision its age and what it had lived through._

_"I go by many names." Beneath my fingers I felt the bark of the old tree shake as the voice spoke. "I am Life. I am Knowledge of Good and Evil. I am Wisdom. I am Death. I am the Cosmic. I have been called Tong, Asvattha, Irmensul, Mimameior, Yggdrasil." _

_A breath escaped me as, out of the bark of the tree a face did appear, with eyes of emerald radiating unfathomable power. My hand shot from the tree's bark as if it had burned, my knees buckled beneath me, and I bowed, lowering my head. _

_"You, Isabella, will call me Oren." In my mind, it was the only name befitting this spirit tree. "Now, rise, child; you need not bow before me." He spoke gently, warmly, and I lifted my chin to look upon the face of Oren. "Isabella, I have brought you here to give you warning; a war approaches. If you are not prepared, all will be lost and this world will fall into darkness."_

Holy crow.

_My eyes grew wide. "Wh-what war, Oren? How must I prepare?" I wanted to ask why I was chosen to receive this warning, but the question burned in my throat I swallowed it back down._

_"The Northern Witches have long-prophesied the coming of this battle. They have allied themselves with creatures that have powers greater than this world has ever before seen. The prophets have foreseen their victory over the world. The sun will turn black and the world will sink into the sea. There is but one hope for your world, Isabella. You are the only one who can prevent the world's demise. It is a great burden you must carry, my dear." A gust of wind swept through the mighty forest; Oren's branches rocked and leaves fell to the forest floor._

_"O-Oren, I don't understand. How am _I_ supposed to stop this?" My voice sounded small, fragile._

_"Isabella," his voice wrapped around me like a warm blanket, "do not underestimate yourself, child. Of all your fine gifts, your very best is your ability to speak from your heart. Remember that."_

_I nodded dumbly. _

_"Isabella, when you wake, tell only Julian of this matter. He is the only one who will fully understand the role you will play in this." His voice had grown somewhat softer. "Tell him… to ally with those who have the gift of foresight, the faerie folk, the Southern Witches, the Western Witches, as well as vampires. He must be wary, however, even of them."_

_"I promise, Oren; I will do my best." I vowed._

_"I will do what I can to guide you, child. But I fear my time in this realm is coming to its end. Your burden _is_ great, Isabella. But you have chosen your path wisely, child," I could sense a small smile in his voice, "and soon... you will meet the one who will help to carry that burden; one who will show to you every beautiful thing about this world. I wish you luck, my child." _

_The face faded back into the bark of the tree, and for the first time since I opened my eyes to this magnificent forest, I felt alone. It finally occurred to me to wonder where exactly I was, how to get home. Oren had said 'when you wake' – _had I really been asleep the whole time? _Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes._

Alright, Self, time to wake up now.

* * *

**A/N **The wolf pack arrives in Seattle in the next chapter! Will Embry survive it?! The poor kid damn near has a heart attack every time he's seen her.


	8. Of War, Eggs, and Lust

**Suggested Listening:  
**The Abbasi Brothers – The Sound of Silence  
Melpo Mene - Holes

The Dodos - Eyelids

* * *

**Chapter Eight  
**Of War, Eggs, and Lust

_"My heart is unprepared_

_For when I see you when you arrive_

_I hope that you meet me when I arrive"_

* * *

"Tong? Asvattha? Yggdrasil? As in… the World Tree?" Julian's brows were creased together, deep wrinkles appearing on his forehead.

"Yeah; 'World Tree' seems… _adequate_. He said he is Life… and Wisdom and… and the Cosmic, among other… titles." I had been chewing incessantly on my thumb nail since entering the large room with Julian, and even as I spoke my teeth remained clenched to it.

When I had jolted awake, still in the same bed in which I'd gone to sleep; I had ignored my sweat-drenched tank top and my ratty sweatpants, throwing my long purple robe over my pajamas, and calling Jamison at the front desk to set up a meeting for me with Julian right away. I hadn't bothered to wait for a call to confirm the meeting, and was already waiting outside of the conference room when Julian arrived.

I spared no detail in my reiteration to Julian; he sat in silence, listening raptly as I struggled to recall the dream.

"This world will fall into darkness…" Julian spoke almost soundlessly; if not for my sharp senses, I'd not have heard him echo the last words I'd spoken. I hadn't told him everything yet, but I took pause for him to wrap his head around the revelation. "A war with whom, Bella? Did he tell you?"

I nodded anxiously. "The Northern Witches. Oren said they were aligning themselves with cr-creatures who possess powers this world has never known."

I sank to the floor, dazed and shaken. Julian sat too, taking my hands in his, engulfing them in his heat. "There's something else, Julian." I drew in a breath, uncertain how my next revelation would be accepted. "He told me… I was the only one who could prevent the world's demise." I had fixed my eyes to a crack in the floor in front of me, unable to look at Julian as I whispered the words. From my spot at his side, I could hear the stutter of Julian's heart.

"I believe him, Isabella." He cupped my chin in his hand, lifting my face until my eyes met his. He smiled gently. "And not simply because it was told to us by The World Tree, but… also because you have altered fate before, Bella. Because you are stronger in heart and mind than any other I've met – and, Bella, I have lived many lifetimes."

I could feel my mouth gaping, but couldn't seem to recall how to make it shut. No one had ever told me anything like _that_ before. No one had ever had that much faith in me before. And for it to have come from Julian, it was almost too much.

After my first phase, Julian had taken it upon himself to relocate to Phoenix for two years to assist my mother in my training. In that time, he'd practically lived with us, and we'd grown close. I had come to think of him as an uncle - only after it became clear that my hopes for him marrying my mother would never become a reality.

And somehow, I'd made him proud. The feeling welling up in the pit of my stomach was something so rich and so warm; it brought tears to my eyes, and they were dangerously close to falling to my cheeks.

His hand still cupped my chin, and I studied his face as the small smile faded, replaced by something serious and grim. The corners of his lips dropped into a frown for a split second, and his violet eyes seemed to go somewhere else for just a moment before, out of nowhere, they were once again clear and focused on my own.

"You must resume your training immediately, Bella." He rose from his place on the floor, taking long strides toward the large oak doors. "And I need to inform the Council of this matter… unless," he stopped in his tracks, looking back to me over his shoulder through several strands of his long, rich brown locks which had fallen over his eyes. "…unless Oren said I should not."

"Um… no… nope… no. He, um, just s-said that _I_ should only tell you; n-not that you needed to keep it from anyone." My cheeks burned as I fumbled over my words. "Julian, there's m-more… um, before you leave."

He turned his whole body toward me, saying nothing, but raising his eyebrows.

"Oren – he… supplied me with a list of allies that would be… useful." I stood, feeling no less miniscule in his presence than I had when I was sitting.

"_Really?_" Genuine surprise laced his voice. "Huh – I don't think he's ever interfered with destiny this much before." Julian's jaw was tight, his voice sounded off, the scent of worry rolled off of him.

I could do nothing but nod dumbly as I rattled off the list in a voice I hardly recognized. "…a-and… um… well… th-the _vampires."_ The final word, a whisper so soft, that I would not have been able to pick up on it, had I not been the one to speak it.

I watched as Julian's shoulders tensed. His leather and grapefruit scent was tainted, saturated with worry and fear. Whatever he was thinking, he kept it to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

"He… he t-told me we sh-should be wary of who we… tr-trusted, even of the allies he mentioned." I blurted, panic clutching my stomach with icy cold fingers.

Julian, still pinching his nose, nodded. "Alright, Bella." His voice was wrought with anguish, rough and raw. Painful to hear. "Unless there's more, I must call a private council session. This…" he released his grip on his nose. His violet eyes, filled with anxiety and sadness, searched mine for answers I didn't think I had. "… is _big_. Very big."

He spun on his heel, hastily approaching the doors again when he halted once more to face me. "You'll need to tell the La Push Elders to bring their entire pack here to Seattle. It will be… _a while_… before we can deal with the introductions and education and… _whatnot._"

_La Push.  
Giant wolves.  
Family.  
Mine._

"Um, Julian, if I may…" something was tugging at me from deep within; an itching, fiery connection. "… I wouldn't mind telling them about the world of the Mythics… and such. I, um, think I could take over for Kuri while he's… otherwise preoccupied. And, um, I asked Jamison to bring Veda in, so…" I trailed off, knowing that any mention of Veda's involvement would more than sell my proposition to him.

As an empath, her knack for feeling out the emotions of others made her the ultimate counselor. She was, in every sense, the very opposite of Kuri. I had never understood why he had been chosen to introduce so many to this world. He was cold and uncaring on his best days. I wouldn't wish him upon any leech, let alone the La Push wolves, with whom I felt a weird and wonderful kinship – a pull I'd never before felt.

Julian nodded, his face relaxing ever so slightly. "Okay, Bella." He conceded. "But _do not forget_, you must train. If you are to take on the task Oren has requested of you, you must be prepared."

I nodded and he turned to open the oak doors, a gust of wind swirling around me. I followed, but by the time I'd reached the doors Julian had disappeared. I withdrew back to my room, rerunning my dream and my meeting with Julian in my mind as the elevator carried me to sublevel 4, where the living quarters were.

* * *

Opening the white door with the golden number 7 on its front, I took in the scene I'd left behind in my haste hours earlier. Blankets and sheets were torn from the bed, having landed across the room still tangled from my restless sleep. My closet door was left ajar after I'd wrenched my robe from its depths.

I walked to the bed, my eyes lingering on its inviting form. Apparently I had slept during the night, but the dream had felt so real and so vivid, that it felt as if I'd not slept at all. I was tired. But as much as I wanted to sleep, I knew there were things that had to be done.

I crossed the room, heading for the dresser and opening a drawer. Sure enough, there was a faded brown Doors tank top and a pair of faded blue, hole-ridden jeans in the drawer. The drawer below it held mostly an array of Converse sneakers; I grabbed a left shoe and a right shoe at random, honestly not caring if they matched. Giving the bed one last look of longing, I passed it to head to the bathtub instead.

Bathed and dressed, I slipped on the necklace my mother had given to me just after my first phase; a simple silver chain, unbreakable and able to shrink or grow depending on which shape I took, with a teardrop-shaped amber pendant which hung low, resting just above my stomach. I grabbed a jacket from the drawer, fairly certain it hadn't been in there moments before, and headed for the door.

My hand was already turning the knob when I picked up on the sound of two muffled voices. Billy Black and Sam Uley were having a conversation two rooms down from my own.

I left my room and locked the door behind me, knowing very well that a lock wouldn't stop anything that was in this part of the building from getting into my room if it so pleased. I walked to the door with the golden 9 on its front, stopping outside of it, but not knocking.

"Sam, it's me, Bella." I spoke quietly, knowing he could easily hear me through the door as soon as I approached. The door opened, replaced my Sam's massive, half-naked, freshly showered, still moist body filling its frame. I felt my eyes widen, sweeping over his bare chest – it couldn't be helped; after all, the very top of head only reached his chest. I flushed when I heard Billy's bright chuckle from behind Sam, and somehow managed to drag my gaze away from the gleaming pectorals in front of me.

"Bella," Sam spoke flatly, the slightest hint of amusement in his voice. "Did you need something?"

"I… uh… um…" I fought to recall where we were, why I was at his door. "Oh, um, y-yeah. We need… to talk." My cheeks grew ever warmer. He took a step to his side, allowing me just enough room to squeeze between his body and the door frame. Heat rolled off of his body in pulsing waves, and I found myself cursing the Quileutes for producing such magnificent men as I pushed past him into the green room.

I took in the details of his room, certain they'd not yet figured out how the rooms worked. The moment a person chose their room and touched their key, the room became psychically linked with them. The atmosphere of each room was created to suit whoever was staying there, right down to toothbrush preference and the smell of the bed sheets.

Sam's room was the color of celery on three walls. The fourth wall, behind an enormous dark oak bedframe, was covered in stone and living vines. The ceiling had exposed wood beams and the floors were some kind of beaten up hardwood. His dresser, nightstand, and full-length mirror were all a mass of tree limbs. The bedding was dark brown and simple. His room felt like the forest. And it smelled, especially with the steam still rolling out from the bathroom, like patchouli and peppermint. _Like family._

"Something… bad has happened and Julian needs the entire council." I paused when I reached the end of the room, turning to face the two men. "Kuri is normally the one who does the whole… introduction to the world of the supernatural _thing, _but he's – um – unavailable. So… you're all stuck with me instead." I bit my lip, nervous they'd reject the idea. Nervous they'd reject _me._

"What kind of bad, Bella? Is it something to do with our pack?" Billy's brows were furrowed, worry evident in his eyes.

"I can't really talk about it yet, Billy, I'm sorry." I closed the space between myself and my father's best friend, giving his arm a light squeeze. "But I can assure you it has nothing to do with your boys." He nodded, smiling warmly at me before taking my hand in his and giving it a gentle pat. My heart stuttered when I realized he wasn't going to let go, and I couldn't help the smile from forming over my lips.

Keeping my hand in Billy's, I looked to Sam. "We'll be going over the Council rules later. But until then, anything you don't already know, I'm afraid is classified." Glancing between Sam and Billy, they both bobbed their heads in affirmation. "Also, we'll need to get the whole pack to Seattle today. You both met Marissa yesterday – she can come up with a cover story. But I can't very well start teaching without the students." I smiled as Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Students?" He scoffed. "I'm older than you, and so is half the pack."

"Doesn't mean you're smarter, Sammy." I smirked, quickly moving on. "Anyway, you all can leave the building – sight-see, shop, eat, whatever – but you cannot leave the city until your initiation is complete. It shouldn't take more than a few days to complete the initiation, but the council does require intermittent training throughout your phased life." I paused, squeezing Billy's hand. "Billy, you and the other elders will only be required this initial session, but you all will always be welcome to study any and all histories as you please from the Council Library." He nodded again, eyes shining with excitement. "Now, if either of you would like a tour of the building while I'm here, I'd be happy to oblige – and that goes for Sue and Quil too, of course."

"A tour would be good, thank you, Bella." Billy smiled. "I'll just go check with other two." He patted my hand again before letting it go and wheeled himself out to the hallway.

Turning to Sam, I eyed his bare chest once more. "I'll… just… yeah." I tripped over nothing as I all but sprinted to the door, managing to right myself before falling into the half-naked man. Slamming the door behind me, I heard him chuckling from the other side just before opening a drawer to his dresser and gasping. _Psychic rooms._

I paced the length of the long hallway, my sneakers squeaking against the black bamboo floor, as I called Marissa to get the cover story taken care of so the La Push wolves could get to Seattle.

"I really… _really_ hate getting people out of school, Bella," she huffed. "I always have to make up some random uncle or someone and have them just up and die. It's truly awful."

I found an especially squeak-prone spot on the floor, pausing to twist my foot every which way to elicit squeaks of various pitches and volume. "Sorry, Riss, you're going to have to come up with something else this time. It can't be a family member; the reservation is small – an everybody-knows-everybody kind of place."

"Oh, for cryin'…" she sighed heavily. "I'll come up with… _something_. I'll text you when it's done."

As I put my phone into my back pocket Billy was leaving Sue's room, heading across the hallway to Old Quil's. I watched as the door opened in response to Billy's persistent knocking, a thick cloud of smoke rushing out of it and surrounding Billy. It could have been troubling – easy to imagine an inferno producing that much smoke – if not for the distinctly sweet smell of herbs and tobacco. I walked to where Billy was still sitting in the hallway extending the invitation for the tour, and I peered into Old Quil's room.

It was painted the color of red clay, an antique log bed in one corner. The rest of the room was filled with ashtrays, pipes, and ancient books with no readable titles. Old Quil politely turned down the invitation for the tour, all but shutting the door on our faces. We turned around to face a snickering Sam, now fully clothed, and an impatient looking Sue.

"Alright then," I said to the three Quileutes, smiling, "breakfast first?" Their heads bobbed in unison, my own stomach growling its agreement.

* * *

Sublevel One was mostly shops, dotted with restaurants, salons, and cafes. I lead my trio of Quileutes to Victor's Diner. Steering us toward the only open table in the joint, Sam and I (respectively the largest and the smallest of our group) squeezed into one side of our booth. Sue's seat was half the size of ours, leaving an open place for Billy's chair as he wheeled in beside her. Sam eyed the group in the table to our left; five little sprites who took notice immediately of the giant Alpha. I shifted in our seat, bringing his attention back just as Victor moved toward the table from the kitchen, grinning brightly at me.

"Well, if it isn't our little Isabella!" He scrubbed a hand through his silver quiffed hair before leaning over Sam and opening his arms up to me for a hug. Sam shifted, huffing his disapproval, so I quickly half-hugged Victor.

"It has been too long Victor." I pulled back from him, returning Sam's personal space to him.

"Yes, my dear, it has. Who might your friends be?" His gray eyes were fixed on Sam, who looked painfully uncomfortable.

Giggling, I answered. "These are the Elders of the Native American tribe in La Push." I gestured to Billy and Sue, who smiled warmly at Victor. "They have a pack of wolf pups there." I finished.

Sam turned, his steely glare fixed on me. "_Pups?_" He hissed.

"This one's the Alpha pup." I jabbed my thumb at Sam, and Victor chuckled.

"Well," Victor stretched his arms to either side of his body, "you're all very welcome here. Now… let me just see if anyone wants anything in particular, hm?" He closed his eyes, suddenly standing very still. My guests exchanged glances, unsure how to respond to Victor, all trying to locate menus.

"Victor's psychic," I whispered to them. "His gift is knowing what people should, or want to eat."

Billy shook his head, looking to Victor. "So you know what we want before we order?" He asked, still confused.

Victor opened his eyes to examine Billy's face. "Actually, chief," he said, bowing his head a bit, "it's more like… I know what you want before you do. In fact, I know what you want _better_ than you do." He looked pleased with himself as he spun on his heel and headed back toward the kitchen.

Returning almost immediately, he placed a plate of fish fry and a cup of hot tea before Billy. Sue had a bowl of oatmeal topped with fresh blueberries and brown sugar and a cup of coffee with two creams and two sugars. Sam was given an entire plate of scrambled eggs with mushrooms, another entire plate of sausage patties and bacons, another plate of gravy and biscuits, a huge bowl of fruit salad, and a gallon of orange juice with a glass. For me, Victor had four grilled cheese sandwiches, a smaller bowl of the same fruit salad Sam was having, a cup of hot chai tea, and a bottle of ketchup for my grilled cheese. I grinned gratefully at him at the others ogled their perfect breakfasts.

"Thanks, Victor, you're the best." I said, nibbling on a strawberry.

He picked at a cuticle. "I know. I just can't help it." He paused a beat, winking at me. "Now, eat up. It's on the house." I opened my mouth to protest, but he raised a hand to shush me. "Not buts. Or I'll take your ketchup." And with that, he left us to eat.

Across from me, I noticed Sue was merely picking at her oatmeal as she glared at Sam's already half-finished plate of eggs. I wondered for a moment if Victor, for once, had gotten someone's order wrong. But then Sam spoke through a mouthful of eggs.

"Theesh are sho goob – I haven't hab vish in sho long. They are ekshackly like Leah –" He stopped then, eyes wide and staring straight into the piercing daggers of Sue's before darting back to his plate. I swore he was blushing. Sue continued her glare, setting her spoon down beside her bowl and curling her slender fingers around her hot coffee cup.

"I already know whose recipe that is, Samuel Uley," she spoke coldly, and I couldn't help but wrinkle my eyebrows in confusion as I bit off another piece of grilled cheese. "I don't suppose _Emily_ happens to know it, hm?" One of her eyebrows hiked far into her forehead as her eyes pierced through Sam.

Billy cleared his throat next to her, and she averted her gaze to her oatmeal. Beside me, Sam's shoulders had slumped. His hands were shaking, but I knew it wasn't from an impending phase. I could smell the salt of tears from him, though none fell from his eyes. The rest of our meal was spent in awkward silence.

Sue excused herself back to her room after breakfast, assuring me she could find it with no problems. Sam visibly relaxed in her absence.

As we wandered through Sublevel One, I pointed out a purple and white vertical striped door, the words "Petunia's Robes & Fashions" in a loopy silver font above it.

"You'll need to stop at Petunia's for the pack's robes – actually, let's just go ahead and get it done now." I veered the boys toward the shop, noticing Sam's obvious discomfort.

"Bella, do we have to pay for them?" He looked so somber and apprehensive, eyebrows scrunched together and lips turned downward.

I giggled a little. "The first one for each person is free, but if they ruin it or lose it then, yes, they will charge you to replace it. Kind of like a library card."

He relaxed a little, and before long we were walking out of Petunia's with eight purple robes and, in Billy's case, a bit of a crush on the shop owner.

Just outside of Petunia's shop we were greeted by Niyati, her arms already outstretched and waiting for me to hand over the new robes.

"I saw you'd need me," she grabbed at the robes, struggling beneath their weight. "Room Six and Rooms Eleven through Seventeen, right?" She turned, heading for the elevator before I could correct her mistake; the rooms were eleven through eighteen – no one in Room Six. But I supposed it was of little importance. She either knew what to do already, or she would correct her own mistake once she got to the rooms.

Shrugging it off, I caught the curious looks from Billy and Sam. "Ah, that was Niyati. She's a psychic; she has the gift of precognition."

We visited There and Back Again next. The little bookstore's shelves were lined wall-to-wall with new and old books. It was all Sam could do to drag Billy and me out of there. Billy purchased a few books about the histories of inhuman races just before Sam yanked us out and shoved us toward the elevator.

The next sublevel was the council conference room and a few file rooms. While we were there, Sam filled out some of the required paperwork for Shifters for himself and the other pack members. Every Shifter known by the council was required to register, on the off chance that they should go rogue someday or get killed.

While we were waiting for Sam to finish up, I got a text message from Marissa.

**Cover story in place – school was notified. Pack member Paul's secret g/f from Seattle died. Car crash. So tragic. Entire pack is attending the funeral in support of their friend. YOU OWE ME. –Rissa**

I smiled as I read it.

"Hey, Billy, you can call the pack and tell them to come now. The cover story's in place and the school has been called."

Sam looked up from his pile of papers. "What's the cover story?"

"Well," I breathed, "seems your Paul has had a secret girlfriend here in Seattle. She very tragically perished in a car accident, and the whole pack is coming here for the funeral."

He cocked an eyebrow at me and snorted. "I cannot really picture _Paul_ as a one-woman kind of man." He chewed on the end of the ink pen he was holding. "He's, um, not that type of guy." Sam chuckled lightly and went back to writing.

I rolled my eyes. "Well, it'll have to do for now."

Billy made his calls and Sam finished the paperwork, shaking his hand out afterward.

Sublevels three and four were the living quarters, and I explained how the psychic rooms worked. I couldn't stop the snigger from escaping me as realization crept over both of their faces.

Neither of the Quileute men were interested in looking at the art nor sculptures in the above ground museum. Billy was exhausted, and excused himself for a nap before the boys arrived.

I turned to Sam, who had said remarkably little since the file room.

"Soooo…." I said dumbly.

He chuckled under his breath, shoving his hands into his pockets. "So, what do you do for fun around here?"

I shrugged. "Honestly? I've only been here a handful of times myself. And, um… normally, I just... hang out in the bookstore." Warmth spread through my cheeks and down my neck; my lack of a social life was always kind of a sore topic.

But Sam just nodded, seeming to understand it. "Well," he bent toward me a bit, and I caught a whiff of his patchouli and peppermint scent. "Do you think you could show me how you… shift?"

"Sure, Sammy," I smiled a little, the feeling of family warming my whole body, "but we'll have to go back downstairs."

"It's Sam." His voice was serious and hard, but a smile was threatening the corners of his lips.

We stepped into the elevator, its doors closing behind us.

"Sure, Sammy. Whatever you say."

The doors opened, revealing an enormous empty room with padded floors and walls. The entire Sublevel Five was one giant training room, save for the showers and supply closets.

Sam turned around so I could shift. In all my years my shifting, I'd never actually stripped so close to someone else before. From the sounds and scents coming from Sam, I was fairly certain he was as uncomfortable as I was.

Once I had undressed, I leaned forward as I let the phase ripple over me, making it easier for my forelegs to land on the ground. Using my nose, I nudged Sam. He turned, taking in my snow leopard form. It was my favorite and most comfortable animal – my default.

He remained silent for several minutes; examining me, getting to know me by how I acted in my animal. I slid my body to the ground, resting my head on my giant paws and purring as a mysterious heat crept up my spine. He chuckled, but it sounded somewhat strained.

"Is it weird that I kind of feel like attacking you?" He asked, not threatening, but I couldn't help but growl lowly at him. "I think it's because you're a leopard and I'm a wolf. Canines and felines don't exactly… mix well."

Blinking my eyes, I shifted from snow leopard to wolf, a shape he'd seen already. A shape I used to dread. A shape I found myself becoming fonder of around Sam and his pack.

An intense itching on my front leg had me biting at it, trying to end the discomfort. Sam advanced toward me, laughing as he rubbed my head behind my ears.

"Don't tell me you have fleas, Bella. The pack will never be able to get rid of them."

I grinned a wolfy grin at him, bumping my head into his cheek as his phone rang from his pocket. He stepped back to answer it.

_"Hey, Sam, it's Jake. We're here at the Thornton Building. This place is freaking huge, man!"_

Sam nodded. "Where are you, exactly, Jacob?"

_"The lobby. You gonna come take us to the bat cave?"_

I chuckled at that, the sound from my throat more like a cough than a laugh. Sam smirked back at me.

"I'll be up in a second. Do _not_ let Quil touch _anything_, or he's paying for it." He hung up, turning around to allow me my privacy again.

Back in human form, I was dressed in no time and everything was just fine until the knot in my shoelace would not come undone.

"Friggin' shoe. Just cooperate. If you were alive, I would so kick your shins." I muttered, glaring at the green and white sneaker as I tried to loosen the knot. It took another minute and several more threats before the knot gave in, deciding it was better for its health to not be caught on fire. When I was finally able to stand, Sam was staring at me in amused disbelief.

"What?!" I squealed. "It was being unreasonable. Let's go."

* * *

As the elevator climbed its way to the ground level, my arm itched and burned and tingled with a newfound intensity. The pink color had gotten darker and brighter, hot to the touch. I wished I hadn't worn a tank top; I was sure people would be repulsed by whatever skin irritation I had. The heat in my spine grew more intense as well, and I was convinced I had pulled or cracked or broken something – though, admittedly the heat was not unpleasant.

When the doors opened to the ground floor, my jaw dropped at the sight of the six drool-inducing bronze gods in the lobby. They were tall, muscular, tan, dark-haired, living, breathing works of art. And the only thing more impressive than the six examples of sex on legs was the lone female standing among them. Her black hair was cropped short, accentuating her sharp jaw and full lips. Almond shaped eyes the color of sin itself, cheekbones like geometry, proud shoulders, and legs that went for miles. They all held duffel bags and I didn't need to scent them to know they were Shifters.

I felt their eyes upon me, no doubt sizing up the mousy girl who had dragged their alpha away from them. I was tempted to shrink back behind Sam, wanting to escape the attention desperately. But the animal in me would have no part of it, refusing to show such a display of weakness. Instead I walked at Sam's side toward the group. Every single one of them became more and more impressive and beautiful with each step we took.

"Jacob." Sam nodded to the largest of the group.

_Jacob Black._ My childhood friend, turned sex god. His muscles had muscles, and I was certain he had to be just ever so slightly taller than Sam. He smiled a truly glorious smile at us as he closed the distance between us, his whole face lighting up as he looked at me. I returned his smile, incapable of _not_ doing so, and he bounded the last few steps. For a moment I thought he was going to embrace me, and I tensed, trying to brace myself for the impact that never came. Prying my eyes open, I found him just in front of me, but I had to tilt my head nearly all the way back to see his face.

"Hi." I squeaked, barely able to hear myself.

His chest rumbled with a chuckle. "Hey, Bells." He laughed. "Um, I don't know if you remember me – I'm Jacob Black; Billy's son. We used to… uh…" he leaned down, fingers curling around one of my shoulders, nose burrowing into my hair. I knew it he was trying to covertly sniff me, and I allowed him this as I took in a deep breath too just as he finished his whispered sentence in my ear. "…make mud pies together." _Pine. Cinnamon. Oranges._ He stepped back from me, still grinning.

"Right, yeah, of course I remember you, Jake." I bit my lip, brushing a strand of hair from my eyes. "Um, thanks for fixing up that truck for me; it's really great."

His grin grew impossibly wider and brighter. "S'no problem, Bella." And with that, a huge meaty arm slung around my shoulder as I was pulled into another hot, hard body which had a face somewhere far above me. _Nutmeg. Cardamom. Lemongrass. Quil._

"What the fuck, man?" Quil's voice boomed from above my head. "You can't just take all the credit, dude." Quil's arm unwrapped itself from me, his hand spinning me around to face him. "Bella, can you believe that kid? Y'know, me and Em over there helped him with that ol' rusty piece of sh-"

"Hey!" I pushed his chest, clearly surprising him when I was able to shove him away from me. "I appreciate what you _all_ did, but do not hate on my truck again." I smiled, turning back to the rest of the pack, having had just the little push of confidence that I needed.

"I'm Isabella Swan. You can all call me Bella."

Quil returned to my side, slinging his arm over my shoulders once again. I couldn't find it in me to protest; the heat from his body soothed the spot on my arm, and I momentarily felt a pang of guilt, hoping that it wasn't contagious.

"Okay, Bella, lemme tell you about this here motley crew." Quil lifted his arm, pointing his finger to one of the guys I already recognized from the airport. "Paul the Playa," he stated matter-of-factly, before bending to whisper in my ear. "A walking STD pamphlet." Across from us, Paul snorted, but said nothing.

Quil's finger moved on to the next bronze sex god. "Jared there is Paul's BFF. We're always catchin' 'em havin' pillow fights and gossiping about boys." Jared smiled good-naturedly, nodding his head at me and mumbling a "Hey, what's up".

"The wee one there," Quil angled his head at a slightly less muscular man, "is Seth. He's just a pup." From my other side I heard Sam chuckle.

"Funny," Sam said, "Bella here seems to think the whole pack is a bunch of pups."

My face went up in flames as snorts and growls and chuckles boomed through the lobby. The flames dipped below my face, licking my neck and my chest too until Quil tightened his grip around me.

"Ah, shut the hell up." He barked. The wolves quieted enough to allow Seth to step forward. He shook my hand, offering me a sweet smile.

"Alright, Bella," Quil shook me a little as he pointed to the astonishingly beautiful girl across from us. "The vixen there is Leah. She's Seth's sister. And she's _hella_ scary." Leah's lip curled over her teeth as she snarled at Quil, but she nodded her head once in my direction.

"And, last but not least," Quil angled my body toward one which stood next to Leah. He was the boy from airport who had run into me.

I hadn't had the chance at the airport to really get a good look at him like I had Paul and Sam, as his back was to me most of the time. But here in the lobby, even with his head down and eyes fixed on the floor, it was a different story.

His hair was shaggy and black, sweeping across his forehead. I couldn't see his eyes, but his eyelashes were thick and long and draped over his high cheekbones. His jaw was strong and his lips were full and round and begging to be licked and sucked. His beautiful russet skin looked soft, flawless. And just a hint of stubble covered a slightly dimpled chin. He was tall – almost as tall as Jake and Sam – and slender, but still covered in rounded lean muscles. Chewbacca, Han Solo, and Luke Skywalker stared at me from the front of his faded black t-shirt; just below them his arms were crossed. I wished they were around me, surprising myself with the thought.

Somewhere next to me, Quil's voice barely registered as I stood, making a fool of myself, ogling this poor boy who clearly didn't want to be bothered to be introduced to me. "…that sexy beast right there," Quil's voice was right at my ear, barely a whisper. "…is Embry Call."

Embry simply stood there, unmoving.

"Um… h-hi." I stammered, feeling incredibly lame. He didn't blink.

"Em," Quil called to him, "the girl said hi, bro."

A thousand years of silence seemed to pass, and just as I opened my mouth to change the subject and get things moving along, trying to be unbothered by everyone's reactions to me, I heard the almost whispered, very deep, very throaty, very smooth, very recognizable and familiar voice from the airport terminal. The voice which belonged to someone I'd already decided was a kindred spirit. It was the same voice which belonged to my fellow companion-to-the-Doctor from afar. It was a voice which, at that moment, came from the boy who was too interested in something on the floor to even look at me.

"Hello, Bella Swan." He dug the toe of his black Converse sneaker into the lobby floor as he spoke. It was quiet and simple and not the first words he had spoken to me, but the first which had matched perfectly to that of my airport singer.

I realized then, that he was almost singing his greeting to me, and I couldn't decide what to make of that before Sam cleared his throat.

A collective sigh seemed to pass through the entire pack.

Under his breath, Paul grumbled, "Well, _that _was painful."

Shaking my head, I snapped back to reality just enough to remember what we were all doing here, where we all were.

"Right, right, right," I mumbled, more to myself than anyone else. "Um, I need you all in two groups then. We won't all fit on the elevator together. Sam, you can take one group down and I'll take the other."

His pack looked surprised when he gave a curt nod to me before easily splitting them up.

I took the first group, heading toward the elevator with Paul and Seth at each of my sides, and Leah and Jared trailing behind us. When the doors opened, I called out to Sam. "Sammy, you know how this thing works, right?" We all heard the low growl coming from Sam's group, Jacob and Quil's heads turning to look at Embry. Sam, however, just nodded his reply to my question.

As the elevator doors closed, I wondered what it was about me that Embry seemed to dislike so much.

Leah's voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Boys are _so_ stupid." She snorted.

* * *

**A/N Next up: Embry's POV :)**

Keep the reviews coming and I'll pay you back with a preview for next chapter (it won't just be Embry's view of what just happened, but also lots of new stuff). Thanks to all who have reviewed so far!


	9. How to Pine

**A/N:  
**Hello, new readers and old! You all ROCKED the reviews last chapter, and I was all kinds of giddy from it :)  
I feel a need to apologize to you all if this chapter seems sloppier than usual. I have been flu-stricken for the past few days, and the medicines I have taken have made me a whole new level of loopy. But I couldn't stand to wait to post it any longer! So if you see something that screams "FIX ME!" send me a PM and let me know, so the reading experience is a little better for those who happen upon it after you.

* * *

**Suggested Listening:  
**Hefner- The Cure for the Evil  
The Cure - Catch  
Neutral Milk Hotel - King of the Carrot Flowers Pt. 1 (BODYTIME remix)  
Cyndi Lauper - Girls Just Want to Have Fun (More Fun mix)  
INXS - Need You Tonight (Michael Marshall & Steve Smith remix)  
Ride (or Trespassers William) - Vapour Trail

* * *

**Chapter Nine**  
How to Pine

* * *

_Don't let my hands go idle, when they feel this much for you,  
Can't you tell this much is true when I hold you.  
If I sometimes seemed ungrateful, If I doubted you sometimes,  
If I called you by the wrong name, I was out of my tiny mind.  
'Cause you were the one with sexy shoes,  
You frazzled my mind and I forgot what I knew,  
Oh you were the one  
So console me_

* * *

**Embry POV**

I was exhausted.

After throwing up in Sam and Emily's yard the previous night, I'd phased and kicked Seth off of his patrol so I could be alone with my humiliation and my thoughts of self-deprecation.

Solitude, however, is a rarity in a pack of wolves. And mine was short-lived as Quil soon phased too. My mind was filled with his memory of her.

She'd scared him at first. Her sweet laughter rang through his mind as he sang one of our favorite songs from childhood, reminding him of the girls in elementary school who used to laugh at how loudly he sang during music class. And then she'd scared him again when she managed to pick through his thoughts to find the information she was seeking.

After he had gone into Sam's house, he'd been almost overwhelmed by her fragrance. _Lavender. Chamomile. Honey. _Everything about it was comforting and warm, even though it was tainted by the scent of fear. She was scared and, judging from the smell of bile that lingered in the air, she had gotten sick. Quil had felt a devastating need to comfort her, to wrap her up and keep her safe. It was not unlike how we all felt about Emily or Kim.

But at the same time, his wolf had recognized the strength within her. She was small, which was deceiving, because she could also be fierce and fiery. He admitted he was a little intimidated by her. And that was not unlike how we all felt about Leah.

But no matter which way you turned it, one fact seemed to stick. The adorable little paleface felt like family, like she belonged here, like a missing puzzle piece falling into place.

_Bella Swan. _He had presented her name to me with some apprehension.

We both knew the name all too well.

Bella Swan. Daughter of the Forks chief of police, childhood friend and crush of our future alpha. For years she would swoop in and disrupt our summer vacations, stealing Jacob from us. Then, as Summer Break drew to its end each year, he'd return to us all quiet and sad, like he'd lost his puppy. She had stopped visiting several years ago, and Quil and I had all but forgotten about the girl we'd labeled a friend thief. And then Jake had been asked to fix up Billy's old truck for Chief Swan. His eyes had gone all wistfully glassy when he told us it was for Bella.

And just like that, the pieces seemed to come together. But not in any way I had stupidly allowed myself to hope.

According to what Quil had witnessed, she was strong in mind – stronger than any of the pack, including Sam. I didn't understand what exactly that meant. But it seemed to make sense that she would come back into Jacob's life. Together they'd be the ultimate Alpha couple.

The thought made my chest ache. Beside me, Quil whimpered before nudging me with his muzzle. He didn't want to admit it, but I could feel that it made sense to him too.

She had demanded an audience with the elders, and Quil and I had watched as Bella, Sam, and three of our elders left La Push in Harry Clearwater's old truck. Sam and Bella sat in the back of the truck; wind causing her hair swirl all around her head as she talked on a cell phone. Her scent, carried on the wind, circled around us like a whisper and knocked me to the ground with a whine.

Quil had gone home shortly after that, unable to provide any sort of consolation or encouragement for me. I had left our spot in the woods too, running fast and hard across La Push and Forks in an attempt to rid myself of the dull ache in my heart. It was nearing midnight when I closed in on the border of our lands, finally exhausted enough to call for someone to take over the patrol so I could go home. But as I reached the edge of La Push, the foul stench of a Cullen burned at my nostrils; like burned caramel and bleach.

My fur bristled at the sight of his paled, pasty skin as he stepped out from behind a tree. We had seen all of the Cullens from a distance, but had only ever spoken with the head of their coven and his wife. He stared at me, his eyes two black orbs, as he paced between two trees. A low growl formed in my throat, pushing itself out through bared teeth.

I wondered if ripping him to pieces would make me feel any better, and thought I might have seen him wince. It would take my mind off of Bella for a few minutes anyway, maybe longer if he put up a good fight. Her face filled my mind for an instant, sending a flash of fresh pain shooting through my heart as the image was replaced by one of her in Jacob's arms. A creation of my own mind, designed to self-inflict unimaginable anguish and fierce jealousy.

In front of me, the Cullen looked as ill as I felt. I phased back, standing several inches over the vampire and feeling impressively muscular in comparison.

"You're one of the Cullens, yeah?" My voice was rough, the wolf close to the surface.

The leech nodded once, otherwise standing completely motionless; not even bothering to blink or breathe. I supposed the façade of being average, normal, healthy, living, breathing people grew old. Around us, they didn't need to pretend. We already knew what vile and truly disturbing creatures they were.

"What the hell do you think you're doing so close to tribal lands? Your kind never comes this close." At my sides my hands involuntarily balled into fists.

He moved then, only slightly, shifting his weight on his feet. "I was following…" his jaw clenched, "…_something_."

I felt my brows wrinkle together. "Something?" My insides prickled as the wolf shifted, already on edge as it was.

"One of your wolves was roaming around Forks." He shoved his hands into his pockets; a gesture I'd have liked to do just then too, but my own pants were still tied to my ankle. His words seemed off-topic, and I wondered if he was trying to change the subject. Before I could express my suspicion, he spoke again. "I followed it here, curious as to why it was phased within the town limits. It took me a while to track it. It has a very… _unique_ scent and I was certain – "

He was interrupted as a howl rang through the air. I recognized it easily as Jacob's. He was still on the rez, calling for a pack meeting; no doubt having heard from Sam.

"You should leave, Cullen. And I wouldn't advise following any wolf again." He was gone then, like he'd vanished into thin air. I pulled on my shorts, running the rest of the way as a human, not trusting my wolf to restrain itself from following the vampire and killing it.

* * *

I was wound up again by the time I had made it to my bed. The hours until school dwindled as I stared at the clock. My mind was my worst enemy, all new images of Jacob and Bella haunting my every thought. I didn't sleep at all.

At school, my first two classes passed in a blur. I was relieved when I was called to the office at the beginning of my third period – my Pre-Calculus teacher had just started to distribute a test I was bound to flunk since my sleep-deprived brain wasn't functioning quite right.

Joy Ateara stood in the front office, surrounded by towering teenage wolves. She was dabbing at her eyes with a tissue, though I smelled no trace of tears. I nudged Quil with my elbow, furrowing my brows when he looked at me, a silent question passing between us. He shrugged, frowning.

"Come on, kids," Joy looked at each pack member, "we really can't be late." She headed for the doors which lead out of the school, each of us falling in step behind her. When we reached the parking lot, she turned to Jacob.

"You've all been excused from school for the rest of today and tomorrow. Your father called, and you're expected in Seattle today." From her van she pulled out duffel bags, each one labeled for its corresponding pack member. "I took the liberty of calling around and getting some things together for each of you, even though Billy said it wasn't necessary for some reason. Now, I expect you all to behave. And be careful." She hugged Quil before she got into her van and left.

Leah kicked the duffel bag at her feet. "That was weird."

Beside me, Quil snorted, "You should try livin' with her."

* * *

Jake pulled out his phone as we entered the lobby of the monstrosity of a building, dialing Sam's number.

"Hey, Sam, it's Jake." As Jake spoke on his phone, I took a place against a wall beside Leah.

I had accompanied her to Seattle, winning the cramped place in the passenger seat of her small Honda Accord because of my height; Seth and Quil squashed together in the backseat like sardines. And when Bella Swan, the subject of much speculation in our pack, was mentioned Leah had noticed that I visibly paled when Quil reluctantly stated our own theory. The she-wolf pulled into a gas station, instructing the backseat passengers to get out and pump gas and gather snacks.

When they were out, she turned in her seat, eying me suspiciously.

"So you know this chick, Call?" She asked, dryly.

My eyes on my feet, I shook my head. I knew it was ridiculous – getting so worked up over a girl I'd seen only a couple of times, and to whom I'd only spoken a grand total of maybe two words.

"But you like her." It wasn't a question. I closed my eyes, the now familiar stabbing in my heart twisting a little as I nodded.

Leah blew out a long breath, reaching over and squeezing my fingers. "Then you're gonna hafta talk to the girl, Embry."

I looked at her, raising an eyebrow. There was no point in talking to Bella, not really. I fucking ached to my core to know her, to hear her voice, her laugh. But even if she wasn't destined for Jacob, the odds of that girl finding anything about me remotely interesting were slim. I was a bastard child, unable to go to college now, who was rumored to be part of a cult or gang. I'd never be able to find a job that could support us, and I couldn't even offer much for a family.

Leah squeezed my fingers tighter, bringing me out of my self-deprecating thoughts. "Call, you know I don't bullshit. So listen to this, and just let it fucking sink in." She shook my fingers in her hand. "You are an _amazing_ guy. And before you get all giggly little girl on me, let me just say that your self-esteem fucking blows." It seemed like she might have more to say, but Quil and Seth had returned from the convenience store, three huge bags filled to their tops with food and drinks in each of their arms.

* * *

I did my best not to fidget; the burning in my arm growing incredibly intense. Leah elbowed me in the ribs when she spotted me scratching the pink source of discomfort.

The ding of the elevator distracted me, my eyes trained on the doors as they opened to reveal the tiny Bella Swan standing in front of the hulking Sam Uley. She was beautiful, looking nervous in her ratty old Doors shirt and her _mismatched_ shoes.

My heart _fluttered_ again. _Never gonna survive this._

When my eyes made their way back to her face, she was staring wide-eyed at Leah, looking absolutely terrified.

In return, each of the pack had taken notice of her as she walked with confidence at our alpha's side. Her cheeks were flushed and she was biting her lower lip, looking very much the part of a sex kitten. My brothers, and even Leah, were blatantly checking Bella out. It took everything I had to beat back the wolf's urge to growl possessively.

They stopped several feet away from us, Sam taking a moment to observe his pack one-by-one.

"Jacob." Sam nodded toward his beta who stepped forward, grinning ear-to-ear at Bella. My heart sank a little as she returned his smile, though I couldn't help staring at the beauty of it before it abruptly disappeared. Bella's face crumpled, eyes squeezing shut as Jacob approached her. It seemed to confuse him just as much as it did the rest of us, stopping him dead in his tracks just before her.

It was the moment I had been dreading; the inevitable meeting between Bella Swan and Jacob Black. I shook my head, trying to clear all the images of the two of them I'd drawn in my mind the previous night. Nausea swept over me as she relaxed her face and slowly opened her eyes, tilting her head back almost as far as it could go in order to meet Jacob's eyes with her own.

As their eyes locked, I braced myself for the clap of thunder, the shaking of the earth, the falling of the sky. But there was nothing. Not even the shift we all had felt when Jared had imprinted on Kim. There was nothing other than the tiny little squeak from Bella's throat as she spoke one single word to Jacob.

And he had laughed his big, booming laugh before bending down to brush his nose to her skin. Every muscle in my body went rigid in the struggle to keep my wolf down. He was right there, right at the surface, ready to rip the future chief and alpha to shreds. Next to me, Leah cleared her throat and Quil stepped from his spot, landing at Bella's side in one enormous stride.

His arm was around her shoulders, but even my wolf seemed to comprehend that Quil wasn't a threat. And he had stepped between Bella and Jacob, which eased the wolf's anxiety slightly until I heard him mention my name.

"Y'know, me and Em over there helped him with that ol' rusty piece of sh-" Bella cut him off, pushing the bulky mass of muscles away from her with impressive force. A collective shuffling of feet rippled through the pack, and Quil himself looked simultaneously shocked and in awe.

"I appreciate what you _all_ did," she exhaled, looking pleased. "But do not hate on my truck again." She turned then toward us. "I'm Isabella Swan. You can all call me Bella."

Quil recovered from his shock, placing himself between Jake and Bella once more.

"Okay, Bella," he draped his arm over her shoulder again. "Lemme tell you about this here motley crew." He went through the pack one-by-one, my heart picking up pace as the introductions drew closer to me.

Chuckles and hoots ripped through the pack when Sam announced that Bella had referred to us all as pups. It was in good fun when Jared and Paul growled, but my wolf once again rose to the surface, seeing their sounds as a threat to the girl he'd taken a liking to. I had barely gotten the tremors under control when Quil angled Bella's body toward me.

"Last but not least," he announced as I felt Bella's eyes sweep over me. The same feeling I'd gotten when she looked upon me at the airport returned; a breath of fresh air. I was ready to fall to her feet. Her adorable little feet. My eyes landed on them; one encased in green canvas and the other in blue. I heard Quil's voice, somewhere in the distance.

"That sexy beast right there," he dropped his voice to hardly a whisper. "… is Embry Call."

I froze, fear clutching tight in my heart at the knowledge that her eyes were on me.

"Um… h-hi." She spoke to me, stuttering. My mouth went dry, all knowledge of the English language gone from my mind. I remained frozen.

"Em, the girl said hi, bro." Quil reprimanded me, bringing me out of my shock enough to remember a trick my mother had taught me when I was little.

Always painfully shy, she had somehow convinced me that singing was less difficult than speaking. I never could understand the rationality of it, but it had stuck.

And so I found myself feeling incredibly lame and foolish, singing to Bella Swan just in order to not give the impression that I was completely without manners. I jammed the toe of my shoe into the ground hard, the pain from the action distracting me enough from her heavy gaze to get through a simple greeting.

She stood, studying me until Sam cleared his throat.

"Well, that was painful." Sympathy laced Paul's voice, and I twitched in shame.

* * *

At Bella's request, Sam had split us into two groups. I was simultaneously relieved and disappointed that I wouldn't be riding in the elevator with her as she made her way to the little box with Paul and Seth at her sides, and Leah and Jared following behind them. More than anything, though, I was elated that Jacob was not in the box with her either. I allowed myself to relax, letting out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

I watched as Bella turned around in the elevator. "Sammy," she called out, sending my wolf immediately out of the tight clutches I'd had him in, "you know how this things works, right?" The growl escaped me before I could stop it, limbs quaking as I tried to beat the wolf back down.

Sam nodded. Jacob and Quil glared at me. The elevator doors closed. Sam turned around, one eyebrow cocked as he studied me.

"Problem, Embry?" Somehow he managed to sound both sympathetic and annoyed at the same time. My shoulders slumped, and I shook my head. He nodded, "Let's keep it that way then." And then he turned, walking toward the elevator; Jacob, Quil, and myself following behind him.

We walked out of the elevator and into an empty hallway lined with doors on either side. Three doors had keys sticking out of their handles; one door to the far left on the opposite wall from the elevator, and the other two were to the far right of it, on either side of the hallway.

"Guess you three just pick which rooms you want – I get the feeling you'll be happy wherever you end up. I'm going to call Emily and clean up. We're having a meeting with Bella in an hour – be out here in the hallway." He walked away, pausing in front of a door with a golden number 9 on its front before turning back to us. "Jacob, your father is in Room Twenty and Quil, your grandfather is in Room Twenty-One."

When he was gone, disappearing into Room 9, the three of us exchanged looks. I felt drawn to Room 6, and wondered if Jake and Quil felt compelled to a certain room too.

"I'm taking Eleven, bitches," Quil grinned, cocking his head to the side.

"Sweet. Em, if you don't mind, I think I want Twelve." Jacob waited for me to agree, which I did; relieved it was so easy. The three of us normally fought over everything like siblings.

They headed their way and I headed mine, my arm burning and itching fiercely as I made my way to Room Six.

The room was, in a word, amazing. An enormous old iron bed sat in one corner, its black paint chipped and cracked. The bedding was fluffy whites and light browns. A velvet robe was draped over it, a shade of lavender which made me think of Bella. The walls were lined in bricks that had been painted a greyish brown, but the paint had faded for the most part. Every inch of one wall was littered with old black and white photos and postcards yellowed with age.

I dropped my duffel bag onto the dark wood floor, unzipping it to find toiletries, underwear, and one pair of shorts. No shirts. No shoes. No socks. But we were in Seattle, so I supposed that if it came down to it, I could find a Goodwill somewhere – I only had thirty bucks on me, having spent the majority of my paycheck from Joy Ateara's grocery store on video games I hadn't even had the chance to open yet.

I opened one of the top drawers of a beat up old dresser, ready to just dump everything from the duffel bag into it. But I was surprised to find it was filled almost to the top with t-shirts in my size. The next drawer I opened was filled with shorts – also in my size.

_Really fucking weird._

Shrugging my shoulders, I grabbed the bag and headed to a small door beside the bed. Opening the door, my nostrils were immediately pounded with a glorious combination of scents.

_Strawberries. Vanilla. Lavender. Chamomile. Honey._

My hands started to tremble as I flicked on the light switch to take in the enormity of the bathroom. There was a large garden tub in the center of the room, and three plastic bottles filled respectively with gels in pinks or browns. I crossed the room to a wide granite counter which held two copper vessel sinks. A long, aged mirror lined the wall behind the sinks. A tube of cinnamon toothpaste was on the counter, sitting beside a green and white toothbrush and some women's deodorant. The whole room reeked of Bella Swan and I was quickly finding myself aroused. I threw the duffel bag down in one corner of the bathroom, forcing myself back into my room to calm myself and my wolf.

I flopped onto the bed, the soft mattress shaping itself to my form. My stomach churned, the combination of various junk foods from the convenience store coupled with stress and nerves was taking its toll. I closed my eyes, hoping to get a little sleep before our meeting.

I replayed the scene from the lobby in my mind, embarrassment creeping up on me all over again. But, as my mind dwelled on the interaction between Jacob and Bella, I confirmed to myself that nothing had happened between them. If anything, Bella had looked uncomfortable with Jacob's close proximity to her. And, oddly, Jacob hadn't seemed particularly interested in her. After Quil had stepped between them, Jacob had even looked somewhat relieved. He certainly didn't seem to mind Quil's arm draped over her, or the playful growls from our brothers, or even the pet name she'd called Sam. I had picked up on the disappointment that had played over his features when Bella's group had made their way to the elevator. But his eyes were not on the petite brunette at all. He had instead been running his eyes over the long bare legs of Leah as his lips tugged downwards into a momentary frown.

My thoughts were interrupted by a loud thump on the wall behind my head. Tilting my head back, I stared at it as the thumping continued. Huffing, I sat up in the bed and pounded back on the wall. But the thumping continued, now accompanied by a muffled, feminine, off-key voice as it sang rather loudly.

_Bella._

And then the door to my room flew open, a wide-eyed Quil standing in its frame.

"Dude! Did you see all the shit in the drawers?! Sam said these rooms are, like, psychic or some shit!" He kept talking, but his voice drowned out as my attention was focused on something in my room I could have sworn wasn't there before. A door. It was on the same wall as my bed, but close to the door which lead into the hallway. It was a door which connected my room with that which apparently belonged to Bella.

I don't know what expression my face wore, but it shut Quil up mid-sentence, allowing the sounds of Bella's singing to fill the room once more. Quil's face twisted, his eyebrows drawing together.

"You gotta a parrot in your room, man?" His question serious.

* * *

4 o'clock came too quickly. After Quil had left, I'd relaxed back into the soft mattress and let Bella's voice fill my ears and soothe the ache in my chest. Inside, my wolf was practically purring in contentment.

I was too nervous to shower, afraid that I'd draw Bella's attention to the clicking of the lock on the door and that she'd stop singing. Instead, I opted to just change clothes, finding a red t-shirt with "More Cowbell" on its front and a pair of cargo shorts much nicer than anything I had left in my wardrobe. I left my room at the same time Bella was coming out of hers, closing my eyes as I felt the familiar rush when her gaze landed on me.

_Jesus Christ. _Her scent hit me, so much more intense when she was the direct source of it. I wanted her. Badly. And obviously, as the blood from my head retreated lower and lower, leaving me dizzy and uncomfortable, shifting myself before turning around so that the evidence was not… evident. But it was unnecessary. Any trace of arousal was quickly replaced with sheer panic as I realized we were alone in the hallway, and that she was going to talk to me.

Sure enough, she approached. My heart was racing, and I knew she could hear it.

"H-hi, Embry." Her voice was quiet and unsure; nothing at all like it had been when she was bellowing out Cure songs from her room. I felt an instant crushing guilt, knowing her apprehension was the product of my own behavior.

Leah's words echoed through my head. _You're gonna hafta talk to the girl._

"Uh, um, uh," _fantastic fucking start, Call._ "Hey, B-B-Bella." _Jesus. _I willed my body to melt into the door, shutting my eyes tight before forcing myself to turn toward her.

I heard her gasp, opening my eyes at the sound, but keeping them at her feet. She took a step toward me, a choking sound in her throat as she started to raise her hand from her side. The movement caught my eyes and they followed her hand higher until it was inches from my face. My eyes ran the length of her arm, over her shoulder and up her neck, pausing at her parted lips.

A door opened behind her; the sound shattering whatever had been about to happen. My mind snapped back to reality as her arm lowered and she turned her head toward the noise. I scrubbed a hand over my face, wondering if there had been something on it that she was only going to pick off.

The pack trickled into the hallway, splitting into the groups we'd been in previously to head to what Bella called Sublevel Five.

* * *

Sublevel Five, as it turned out, was one massive padded room; apparently used for training purposes. Sam had requested that Bella show us what she could do – a request that, inwardly, my wolf growled about. She excused herself, returning from a small adjoining room in just a towel, a crimson blush covering her from head to toe, and it took every ounce of willpower I had not to throw myself on top of her; in order to protect or in order to ravage, I was unsure. In my imagination I could easily have done both.

She shifted, her wolf was breathtaking in shaggy black fur with patches of grey. My own wolf clawed at me from within.

"Em, she looks like a smaller version of you… but reversed." Jared's voice echoed in the room, and I felt everyone's eyes on me. Including Bella's. But I couldn't even meet the eyes of her wolf, instead just giving a curt nod of affirmation.

We all jumped back as the wolf was replaced with a panda.

"Awww!" Leah cooed, involuntarily it seemed as she slapped a hand over her mouth. The noise was enough to break through the shock that had settled over us.

"Holy shit, B," Quil's face was a perfect picture of awe.

Beside him, Leah stepped from the rest of the group. She held her hand out to Bella.

"Bella," she spoke quietly, "can I… touch you?"

Bella nodded, dropping down to four paws and padding over to Leah. My pack sister's fingers disappeared in the thick white fur of Bella's neck, and for that moment Leah looked like a carefree teenager. When she pulled her hand back, she gave a small smile to the giant panda.

Bella shifted once more, her body taking a feline shape with thick grey fur and black rosettes. Paul, Seth, and Jacob all had stepped back, crouching slightly as if they were about to attack. In unison Sam, Leah, and myself had positioned ourselves protectively in front of Bella, allowing her to retreat to the small room to shift back.

"I was afraid that might happen." Sam muttered.

Bella returned, fully clothed and grinning. "I figured it would happen too; s'no big deal, Sam. I could've taken them." She winked at Sam, giggling.

She had us sit in a crescent on the padded floor. She situated herself before us.

"Well," she breathed, "I don't have much to go over with you right now. Someone's coming in tomorrow to help me out since I've never really done this part before." She chewed her thumb nail, looking each one of us over. "Anyone have any questions for me?"

Paul cleared his throat, gaining Bella's attention.

"So… what do you… _do_?" I could see that he couldn't quite find adequate words for the question he wanted to ask.

Bella thought about his question for a moment, moving her hands to her lap. "Well, I do lots of things, I guess. Mostly for the Council. You'll learn more about that later." She sighed and brushed her bangs from her eyes. "I'm also a senior in high school, but… I don't really _do_ anything outside of this and that."

"How can you shift into different animals?" Seth asked the question we all seemed to be thinking.

"Um… well, I don't really know. The Council says I'm _gifted_," she rolled her eyes, "but I don't know about all that. It just happened. By accident at first, but I know how to control it now."

"Bella, you said you started shifting almost five years ago, right?" Sam leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees.

Bella nodded. "Yeah, I phased for the first time the day after my thirteenth birthday." She smiled a little, a wistful look in her eyes. "It all started with a lunch lady…"

* * *

We had all exchanged our first phasing experiences then, falling into fits of laughter and hoots by the time we were finished. None of us wanted to do anything serious afterward, so Bella had lead us to a restaurant in the building which was run by a psychic who apparently had a knack for knowing what you wanted to eat better than you yourself.

With my heaping plate of lasagna, he had brought me a cup of chamomile tea, a packet of honey, and a sprig of lavender. The entire pack had burst into laughter, some of them spitting bits of food or drink across the table. Bella, however, looked confused. And for that, I was glad.

Bella was quick to laugh, quick to blush, and easily embarrassed as it turned out. She was sarcastic and playful, but almost as painfully shy as myself and a serious bookworm. Quil was impressed with her knowledge of Star Wars quotes. Leah was relieved to no longer be the only female in our bunch. Sue shared her daughter's relief, smiling as the two girls made plans to meet in Bella's room later. Jacob was pleased to have his childhood friend back, and they reminisced briefly together. Sam was intrigued by her abilities – as were Billy and Old Quil. Seth, I thought, let his stare linger on her a little too long – and so did Paul. Jared seemed more interested in my reaction to Bella.

I felt myself falling harder and deeper with every detail I learned, every smile I saw.

* * *

I had been listening to the muffled voices and giggles of Bella and Leah for over an hour when Quil and Paul barged through my door. As Quil rifled through my drawers, pulling out dress shirts and dark jeans, Paul stepped into the bathroom to lock the door which lead to Bella's room and turn on the shower. The two of them wrestled my struggling, and still fully clothed, self to the shower, closing the door behind them as they left me there.

* * *

Somehow we'd gone from the club scene to house parties; I couldn't recall how we'd made that transition, my memory having become hazy somewhere in the third bottle of whiskey. I was sitting on a brown itchy sofa that smelled like piss, nursing the last of the Jack Daniels and trying not to notice the stench of vomit on the breath of the girl who was whispering in my ear. If not for my wolf senses, I wouldn't have been able to hear her at all over the thumping bass which vibrated the entire house. As it was, though, the large-breasted red head was filling my head with enough sexual slang to fill a book.

From the other side of the room, Paul gave me a nod of approval as he sat sandwiched between two blondes, a mess of their limbs draped over him on a loveseat. Quil was in the middle of the room, grinding against the backside of little Asian chick with a pink-tipped faux-hawk, waggling his eyebrows as his eyes met mine.

My attention was ripped away from my friends as a hand ran up the inside of my thigh, stopping at the button on my shorts. It felt… very wrong.

Her hair wasn't the right color or length. Her eyes were too close together and caked in silver eye shadow and clumped mascara. In fact, her entire face was caked and smudged with make-up. Her shirt was likely appealing to Paul, as her breasts popped from its tight confines, but to me it just lacked class. Her jeans were beyond skin-tight and showed off her neon yellow feet looked uncomfortable, all scrunched up in too-small sandals with painful looking heels. And her skin was fake-tanned and smelled like cheap perfume and cigarette smoke.

I put my hand over hers, still at my crotch, firmly removing it from my absolute lack of erection. I stood, catching her by the elbow to prevent her from falling as my motion had knocked her from my lap. She simply sat back down on the couch, reaching for the next available crotch.

I crossed the room in three strides, my demeanor apparently threatening enough to scare off Paul's skanks. He snarled at me, annoyed at the extra work he'd have to do to get laid.

"This blows, man, I'm outta here," I turned, heading for the door, Paul huffing as he followed me out.

"For fuck's sake, Call, quit being such a fucking pussy," he grumbled, grabbing my shoulder to stop me in my tracks as we stepped into the yard. A few feet away, one of the girls he'd been molesting was throwing up on the side of the house.

I raised an eyebrow at him, scoffing. The party sucked balls, and I knew he knew it. But I also knew he knew that wasn't the reason behind my sour mood. Still, my point had been more than proven, and I turned once again to return to the Thornton Building, where I'd likely get no sleep at all just knowing that one Bella Swan was somewhere in the same building, beneath the same roof, on the same fucking floor.

From behind me, Paul bellowed a sinister chuckle. "I think you're gonna wanna change your mind about your little cry-fest you're heading to."

I turned back, sure that whatever bullshit Paul was about to suggest wouldn't change my mind. The whole night had been a bust, and I was more miserable now than I'd been before. Booze didn't help, obnoxious rap music didn't help, a random hook up definitely wouldn't help.

He had his phone in his hand, flipped open and facing me. From across the yard I could still easily read it; a message from Jacob.

_Luckiest fucking bastard in all of Washington – partying it up w/ these smokin' hot bitches._

Below the text message, there was a blurry picture. The faces of Jacob, Leah, and Bella. It was obvious that the photographer was not Jacob Black. He had barely figured out how to make calls on his cell phone, let alone how to operate the camera. I was willing to bet that he also had no idea how to text either. Another message came in then; the address to the house they were at.

My stomach stirred as I close my eyes and gave a short nod to Paul, consenting to one more party. And possibly my death, if Bella Swan was in the same room with me again.

We left Paul in the yard with Jacob and a group of college girls who had surrounded our future alpha. Paul had no shame in mooching off the good fortune of others, and had even advised me to do the same, stating that there was "plenty of pussy to go around".

As we walked into the house, the first thing I noticed was the music. It was not a spastic seizure-inducing electronic song, like we'd heard at the club; nor was it a bass-heavy rap, which seemed required at college parties. It was Neutral Milk Hotel. A remix, with just enough of a kick to make it… dancey.

The second thing I noticed was the Jell-O shots, wondering how many boxes of Jell-O were purchased to make enough shots to fill every inch of counter space in the kitchen, as well as the entire surface of a beat up pool table and several small end tables.

And the third thing I noticed was the DJ; a petite brunette, seated on the arm of a grungy old recliner in the corner of the living room. She was wearing a faded Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles t-shirt that had been altered into a halter top, a jean skirt which stopped at her knees, her endearing pink Converse One Stars, and a black cardigan sweater, which was tied around her waist. In her hand was a green iPod mini that was hooked up to a stereo system.

As the remix of "King of the Carrot Flowers" ended, another remix started; this time it was Cyndi Lauper's "Girls Just Want to Have Fun". I couldn't help but smile as I took in the sight and sound of my pack sister squealing in delight, crossing the small room to grab DJ Bella by the wrist and dragging her to the middle of the floor to dance.

The look on Bella's face was priceless; a confused combination of excitement and terror. Leah noticed it too; placing her hands on Bella's hips and leading her movements for a moment before letting Bella take over.

And take over she did.

Bella's eyes fluttered shut, a blush blooming over her cheeks, so deep it was plainly visible even in the darkened room, but her body swayed to the fast beat and her hips rotated in contrast to her shoulders and head. Before long she was flailing her arms around her head, bouncing in time with the music, and giggling wildly with Leah. It was the first time I'd seen Leah smile genuinely in over a year.

But as wonderful as that sight was, my focus quickly shifted back to Bella's body. Beads of perspiration had collected at her hairline, her scent literally dripping from her as she bounced and giggled through two more songs.

When the two She-Shifters parted ways after screaming their throats raw to the Cure's "Fire in Cairo", disappointment had hung heavily in the air; the crowd of men, who had gathered to watch the two contrasting beauties, dissipated.

Bella made her way back to the little iPod, shuffling through its songs and successfully pretending to not hear or see the douchey jock type who was trying to get her attention. As he gave up the pursuit, she seemed to find something in her little green machine; a ghost of a smile twitching at her lips. With a click of the button, a remix of INXS's "Need You Tonight" started booming through the large speakers.

Leah returned to Bella's side, setting two whole handfuls of Jell-O shots on a table beside them and handing one to Bella. They seemed well-practiced by this point at tossing back the gelatin and liquor combination, throwing the little paper ketchup cups onto the floor before moving on to the next shot. Seven shots more in each of their systems, Leah dragged Bella back to the center of the room, sandwiching herself between Bella and a tall stranger who easily could have passed as part of our pack with his prominent muscles and buzzed haircut, very visible at its place above nearly every other head in the house. He was of little concern to me though, as his eyes were well-trained on Leah; almost as if no one else even existed in that little room.

I knew I was probably staring at Bella Swan in very much the same way.

Bella's movements were slow now, languid and sexy. Any trace of awkwardness that had been present before had now disappeared so completely that, had I not seen it before, I would never have believed she could be anything less than elegant, graceful, _incredibly fucking sexy._

I rose from the sofa, closing the distance between us. She had her back turned to me, moving in time with Leah's rotating hips.

_So slide over here  
And give me a moment  
Your moves are so raw  
I've got to let you know  
You're one of my kind_

I caught Leah's eye as I stepped behind the gyrating body of Bella Swan. She nodded her approval, a small smirk playing over her lips before turning to writhe against the leg of her tall stranger as I wrapped an arm around Bella's tiny waist, a shock of energy passing between our connecting skin immediately, ghosting my hand over her flat stomach and stepping in time to the music.

I was nervous, trembling at my very core as my stomach did somersaults.

I had to crouch to fit to her. It would have been simpler just to pick her up, but her swaying body was too perfect to interfere with in such a way. My chin came to rest on her shoulder as she tilted her head, my face angling toward her neck as she exposed it to me in a rather submissive gesture.

Greedily, I sucked her scent into my lungs as my lips met her flesh for the first time; the spot between her neck and her shoulder, a pop of electricity forming between us. My wolf howled from within; the urge to sink my teeth into her flesh, to mark her as _mine_ was almost painful. Loud enough for only her to hear, I mouthed the words into her skin, willing them to be absorbed into her bloodstream.

_"I need you tonight…'Cause I'm not sleeping…There's something about you, girl…That makes me ssssweat."_

I would never have heard her soft moan if not for my wolf senses; I had never been so thankful for them. She moved her arms so they were over her head, draped around my neck as her fingers raked over the back of my skull. She had left her body vulnerable to my hands, tempted as they were by the expanse of flesh she had unintentionally exposed by raising her arms, and also her shirt. My fingers swept over the smooth skin of her abdomen, grazing ribs and the bottom edge of her bra. My hips moved of their accord, the embarrassing evidence of my body's reaction to her grinding into her back. My fingers found her hipbones, curling around them, clutching onto her for dear life.

It hit me then, almost knocking the wind out of me. Her scent had intensified, mingling itself with something else; something sweet, something intoxicating, something mouthwatering. Her natural lavender scent mixed with a spicy sweetness I found myself comparing to the scent of a freshly baked pumpkin pie. Digging into her backside, I grew painfully, impossibly harder as I realized it was the scent of her own arousal.

I closed my eyes, no longer buzzing from the alcohol but feeling far more drunk, and let my body take over. We swayed right into the next song, something slow and haunting.

_First you look so strong  
Then you fade away  
The sun will blind my eyes  
I love you anyway_

Without warning, she turned to face me, burying her face in my chest and locking her hands behind my neck.

_Thirsty for your smile  
I watch you for a while  
You are a vapour trail  
In a deep blue sky_

Bella Swan was slow dancing in my arms.

I was lost in it all. The dizzying effects of her scent, the music so eloquently dancing through the air, the beautiful creature in my arms. _ In my arms._

_Tremble with a sigh  
Glitter in your eye  
You seem to come and go  
I never seem to know _

It was almost enough to bring me to my knees. Almost enough to make me beg this woman to never let this end. Almost enough to make me scream. Or cry. Up was down and down was up. And I knew nothing outside of this moment, and the perfect woman pressed against me.

So I did the only thing I could do while still managing to maintain a shred of dignity. I buried my nose in her hair, inhaling the scent of her strawberry shampoo and her lavender, chamomile, and honey scent as deeply as I could, trying to retain some piece of this moment.

_And all my time  
Is yours as much as mine  
We never have enough  
Time to show our love_

"Bella…" I exhaled her name, a shaky whispered prayer rolling from my tongue in a half-whimper, half-plea. My hands were trembling, fingers grazing the smooth skin of her arms as they followed a trail of goose bumps over her neck and to her jaw. She had taken a small step back, her head lifting from its place over my heart, tilting her face toward mine. My eyes searched her face for signs of impending rejection. Her own eyes were closed, face relaxed, and lips parted perfectly. I brushed my thumb across the supple flesh of her cheek and she leaned into the palm of my hand.

"Embry…" I was still looking at her lips as they whispered my name; the way they formed it, the shape they took forever seared into my memory.

_Now or never, Call._

The only sound in the entire world was the frantic thumping of my heart as it tried to pound its way from my chest and into the small hands of the perfect girl my arms held tight. I bent toward her face, my tongue aching to taste those perfect lips.

And, then, just as I convinced myself that she wouldn't disappear if I stopped looking at her; closing my own eyes mere inches away from her lips, she was gone, ripped from my still-clutching arms by a frantic, tear-streaked Rachel Black. Shock consumed me, and I barely registered Rachel's terror-laced words.

"They're fucking _killing_ each other!"

* * *

**A/N: **It is about freaking time Embry made SOME kind of move, right?! **Review and get teasers for the next chapter **(if you don't want any teasers, but still want to review, just make mention of your preference in the review :))**  
**


	10. Puzzle Pieces

**Chapter Ten  
**Puzzle Pieces

* * *

**_When I saw you standing there  
I didn't know you'd ever care  
I didn't know we'd talk at night  
I didn't know you'd hold me tight_**

* * *

She stood at my door, a huge bag of peach gummies and a pair of terrifying pointy-heeled boots in one hand and a pile of clothes in the other.

She had shown up; that was really all that mattered to me. When Leah had suggested we hang out after dinner, I had been hopeful, but assumed it was probably just one of those things one says in order to be polite.

While I had always felt a little lonesome in Phoenix, I also had never really had the urge to try to make friends.

It was different here. Different with the pack from La Push.

So I was grateful when it turned out that she had meant it when she expressed a desire to hang out with me; grateful that she had come, even if her face had started to crinkle as we stood in my doorway.

"This is getting awkward, Swan," she spoke flatly, "can I come in or what?"

I jumped back from the door with a squeak, heat rushing to my face. "Sorry," I mumbled.

The smile she gave me in response didn't quite make it to her eyes. She pushed through the doorway, throwing her piles onto the bed before collapsing onto it herself. She pushed up onto her elbows, grabbing a peach gummy from the bag and tearing at it with her teeth.

"So then, Swan…" she tossed the bag of candy to me. "… got a boyfriend back in Phoenix?"

I pressed my lips together, suddenly finding the peach gummy in my fingers very interesting. As I shook my head, I couldn't help looking toward the new door on one of the walls in my room.

* * *

I hadn't understood its place there when I'd first seen it, just as I had been about to leave my room for the meeting with the pack. And then I had been further confused when I stepped into the hallway to see Embry Call leaving the very room to which that new door would lead.

I couldn't stop myself from looking him over, head to toe. Every member of the pack was astoundingly gorgeous; all muscle-covered expanses of copper skin and chiseled features and dark, burning eyes. But it was Embry who most intrigued me, if only due to his earlier reaction to me.

It was easy to see he didn't like me. My very presence had seemed to grate on his nerves in the lobby, and as I watched his jaw muscles clench and his body go rigid as he finished locking his door, it was clear that what had happened in the lobby was not merely a fluke. The kid could barely stand to be within fifty feet of me.

It was confounding; how I'd managed to offend him, I simply could not fathom.

The silence in the hallway had pounded in my ears, a heavy reminder that we were alone. He had stood, still facing his door, unmoving apart from the rising and falling of his tense shoulders and the grinding of his teeth.

In a rare moment of boldness, I had taken a few steps toward him; hoping that if we shared some sort of conversation that maybe his opinion of me would change. As I got closer, I could see his grip on the doorknob tighten as he shuffled his feet. I paused, waiting for him to flee back into his room. But he stood still, eyes pinched shut.

"H-hi, Embry," my voice came out, barely a squeak. His distaste for me made me nervous, the fear of rejection leaving a bad taste in my mouth.

He stumbled over his words, clearly not wanting to have to talk to me, but too polite to ignore my existence entirely. Finally, he managed a "Hey, Bella."

Releasing the doorknob from his death grip, he turned his body toward mine, heaving a heavy sigh.

It was like I'd hit a brick wall. Or, rather, like a brick wall had hit me.

His scent slammed into me, sucked into my demanding lungs and bubbled through my bloodstream. _Sandalwood. Freshly cut grass. Mossy earth. **Home.**_

Countless nights had come and gone haunted by the pursuit of an always unreachable home. But there in the hallway, it was mere feet away; so easy to touch if I just lifted my hand…

And so I did.

I took a step toward him and then another, lifting my hand as I closed the gap between us; fingers aching to touch the very thing that always escaped me in my dreams.

His eyes followed my hand as it lifted, deep pools of melted chocolate searing into the skin of my arm, then shoulders, neck, and branding themselves into my lips as his gaze lingered there. My hand was only inches from his cheek; heat rolling from his skin into my palm. And for one perfect moment, I found myself imagining and even daring to hope he would lean down to brush his plump lips against mine.

So very distantly outside of the little bubble I'd placed around us, the vague sound of a door closing resonated. He jumped, startled from the noise. And I blinked. Once. Twice, maybe. And just like that, the spell was broken and the moment gone.

And Embry was Embry once again, the boy who was visibly repulsed by my company. He had gone rigid again, or perhaps the moment we'd shared had all been some sort of trickery played on me by my own head.

I lowered my hand, inwardly mourning the loss of his delicious heat at my palm, and turned my head to hide my embarrassment, my defeat.

Embry continued to baffle me throughout the evening.

When I had phased into my snow leopard form, I had expected him to be on the attack. In my mind it was at least _something_ he could have found offensive about me. But instead he'd been one of three wolves to take a defensive position on my behalf.

He'd laughed at my reiteration of the cafeteria incident; my heart stuttered in my chest at the sight of his perfect lips pulling upwards into a perfect smile. I had caught sight of the smile three more times while we all had dinner at Victor's. Though he never spoke directly to me, his voice seemed to demand my attention every time it made an appearance. And when I wasn't watching him, I could swear I could feel his eyes burning into me. I could feel it when he focused on me as I talked about movies with Quil and when Jacob and I had been laughing about the times we'd spent together as children.

But those things were minimal. I was haunted by his scent. And I craved more.

It was truly terrifying, since he clearly didn't like me.

* * *

I was still examining the new door when Leah cleared her throat. I still couldn't quite figure out why it was there. Embry possessed the very scent I had deemed _home_ years ago. And he had an adorable lopsided smile, which caused a small dimple to appear in his cheek. And utterly flawless, perfect copper skin. And raven hair that looked like black silk and probably smelled incredible. And those eyes…

And he wanted nothing to do with me.

Biting my lip, I gave up on trying to figure out the door for the time being.

"Uh, n-no… no boyfriend," my voice was flat, and I tore at the peach candy with my teeth. "_Not ever."_

From the bed, Leah choked a little, sitting up to look disbelievingly at me. "You're _joking._"

I shook my head, laughing to try to stave off the awkwardness.

This time she was the one to look at the new door in my room, raising an eyebrow as she looked back to me.

"Seen anything you like in Washington?" She held out her hands, gesturing for me to toss the bag of gummies back to her.

I threw it, hoping to distract her from the red stain in my cheeks. But she didn't even so much as glance at the bag, easily catching it despite my throwing it nearly a foot too far to the left.

"Well," I tugged at the hem of my shirt. "I… don't know."

She grinned, the smile reaching her eyes. "Okay, spill, Swan."

Between the two of us, we'd eaten her enormous bag of peach gummies by the time we were through gossiping about boys. I had never had girlfriends before, at least none that were not… my mom. But falling into fits of giggles with Leah, I could see the appeal.

I'd opened up to her about my weird dreams, and how Embry smelled – for lack of a better term – exactly like my dream come true. It had taken her almost ten minutes to stop laughing.

And then we'd started laughing all over again.

She opened up to me about her past with Sam, stating with a small frown that she guessed he and Emily were a better fit. And, though she wouldn't reveal details, she admitted she was finally moving on from Sam.

"So," she said, rising from the spot she'd taken on the floor beside me, "in the spirit of moving on, we're going to a party tonight."

My face dropped. I had never been to a party. I didn't want to go to a party. "A-a p-party?"

"Yep." She said, popping the _p._

And, apparently, that was all I was going to get out of her.

"I brought you these," she tossed a jean skirt and a shirt at me. "They're some of my old clothes – pre-phase. Quil said you'd like the shirt. It's too small for me now, so if you do like it, keep it."

I held it out in front of me, unable to stop from smiling. It was a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles t-shirt that Leah had altered into a halter-top. "Quil said that, huh?"

She nodded, shrugging her shoulders. I did the same, and then changed my clothes so we could go. To a party.

Jacob met us in the hallway. His sister was in town, visiting friends at U-Dub. When Jacob had texted her that he, too, was in Seattle, she'd insisted that he party with them.

We took a cab to her friend's house, a booming rap song echoing from it into the street.

We were given Jell-O shots when we went into the house. The air was damp from sweat, but the scent of liquor exuding from pores and mouths dulled any offensive odors. Jacob led the way, grabbing Leah's hand as we plowed through the mass of bodies.

"So we don't get separated," he's said. But I didn't miss it when his eyes had lingered on Leah's exposed cleavage.

When we found Rachel, I was close enough to them to hear Jacob ask her to take a picture of him with Leah. Leah, on the other hand, hadn't heard it as every man in the house had taken notice of her, lining up to talk to her. So when Jacob pulled her onto his lap, she didn't hesitate to do the same to me, and the three of us winced at the bright flash from his cell phone's camera.

Looking a little disappointed, Jacob left to grab more Jell-O shots. I followed, glancing over my shoulder to see Leah and Rachel hovered over Jacob's phone, giggling conspiratorially. In front of me, Jacob had stopped to let someone pass, and I crashed into his back with enough force to send us both toppling to the ground.

"Jesus Christ, Bells, I'd have thought becoming a Shifter woulda knocked that clumsy gene outta your system." He was chuckling as he helped me to my feet.

"Sadly, no, not really," I brushed off my knees, "it just made me fall harder, but heal quicker."

It was my first time drinking. I had had the occasional sip of wine or beer here or there, but never enjoyed the flavor enough to want more. Plus, as a cop's daughter, I couldn't help but feel guilty doing anything remotely outside of the law.

But Jell-O shots were good. Really good.

And though my metabolism wasn't quite as fast as the pack's apparently, it was still faster than average. So I had a lot of them.

I got brave. Brave enough to demand that DJ rights be handed over to me, whipping out my little metallic green iPod mini as if it were the Bible itself.

Not brave quite brave enough to dance. But no one really seemed to mind.

Jacob, Leah, and Rachel took over the dance floor until Rachel had excused herself under the guise of seeing someone she knew. Leah and Jacob were too wrapped up in trying to sneak glances at the other's body to notice that Rachel had only stepped back a few feet. From our respective spots against the room's walls, we watched the two wolves circle around each other in a very predatory fashion until Jacob abruptly excused himself and made a beeline for the door.

It was during a Neutral Milk Hotel remix that the air in the room changed; something about it had turned positively electric. And I could swear I could feel eyes on me.

But before I had the chance to figure out who had prying eyes, "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" blasted from the speakers. And Leah _squealed_. Perhaps the Jell-O shots had affected her more than I had originally thought. She pranced to my side, grabbing my wrist and pulling me away from my spot on the arm of a worn-out chair.

My face paled as she took me to the middle of the room and began shaking her hips.

I didn't – _couldn't_ – dance.

Two things happened at once then.

Leah grabbed my hips with her hands, moving them for me.

And a chain of fire snaked up spine, sending shivers throughout my body and letting it move of its own accord when Leah let go.

I jumped and turned and swayed into the next song and the next after that, giggling at Leah's side. We'd drawn some attention, but I couldn't find it in me to even give it a second thought.

"F-I-R-E-I-N-C-A-I-R-O!" We screamed at the top of our lungs to the Cure, before Leah announced she was going to get more shots.

I retreated back to my safe zone, scrolling through the songs on my iPod. I could feel the presence of one of the wolves in the room, sure that Jacob had returned. A plan began to form in my mind as I looked through the collection of songs in my hand.

As Leah returned, hands filled with heaps of little Jell-O-filled paper cups, I found what I was looking for and started up the next song; something I thought might help the two wolves cease their circling and start their devouring.

But glancing around the room, I couldn't see Jacob. Or Rachel, for that matter. And Leah was handing me a sweet, fruity shot of confidence, so the Black siblings retreated to the back of my mind. And then they were all but forgotten after six more shots when Leah led me back out to the middle of the room, facing me to dance to INXS's "Need You Tonight" as someone who was not Jacob appeared behind her, looking at her through lust-filled blue eyes. She giggled at the attention, mouthing "Oh my God" to me.

My head swam, feeling light and warm. The heat in my spine flared, spreading over my neck and my legs. But then there was an arm around me. A strong, hot, copper arm with an electric touch. It wrapped itself tight around my waist as a body hunkered over mine, pulling me backwards into a hard chest and abdomen as a vaguely stubbly chin came to rest on my shoulder.

_Embry._

His scent was everywhere and my eyes rolled into my head. In my chest, my heart did a flip. My body was weak for him, going limp under his touch. My skin broke into goose bumps as his nose brushed against my neck. Every nerve ending in my body felt the electricity as his lips melted to my skin; a deep guttural moan flowed from his throat and his lips moved against my neck.

He burned the words into my flesh, his voice somewhere between a whisper and a song.

_"I need you tonight… 'Cause I'm not sleeping… There's something about you, girl…That makes me ssssweat."_

I don't think he noticed that at that precise moment my knees buckled beneath me and he was supporting all of my weight, his arms the only thing preventing me from falling to the floor in a puddle.

A moan escaped me before I could stop it, but then it didn't occur to me to be embarrassed. The only things that existed in the world at that moment were his mouth at my neck, his voice in my ear, his fiery fingers running over my bare stomach. I lifted my arms, drawing them behind his head, and lacing my fingers through silky strands of black hair. His fingers found purchase at my hips, digging into them hard enough to leave bruises.

From behind me, his own hips were grinding into my backside, the proof of his arousal pressing into me and causing my body to quake. His heat coursed through me, coiling in my stomach as moisture pooled between my legs and I pressed myself further into him. I ached for so much more, willing every fiber of my being to dissolve into his scorching skin.

We swayed together, the rest of the world melting away right along with the song. And as a new song started, I knew it was just for us because we were the only ones there, the only ones in the entire world.

I turned, the fleeting loss of his heat excruciating until I was rejoined with it, this time at my front. I stood on my toes, locking my arms around his neck to ensure he couldn't escape again; and, firmly planting my nose into his chest, I tried my hardest to inhale every last piece of him into my lungs.

In the back of my head, the perplexity that was Embry Call still plagued me. But there, in his warm embrace, the thoughts were nothing more than an itch in my mind. This Embry Call was not confusing at all, nudging through my hair with his nose, and inhaling me every bit as deeply as I'd been inhaling him.

This Embry Call's heart thumped wildly against his chest, just beneath where my head rested. His voice shook, my name coming out like a dying plea. His hands trembled as he scoured his fingers over my arms, up my neck, and across my jaw. This Embry Call was asking permission to kiss me. And I could not possibly deny him that.

I took a step back, unwilling to kill the moment by opening my eyes, and crooked my head back, trying to stretch my toes to lift me higher. His thumb left a trail of fire over my cheek, my head involuntarily leaning into his gentle touch.

The coil of heat in my stomach had wrapped so tight, and I was sure that the moment his lips touched mine I would explode into tiny particles.

"Embry…" my voice was not my own, sultry sounding even in a whisper. My heart was frantic, pounding in my ears, as I felt him lean into me. He was close, so close. The heat of his breath washed over my lips, and I braced for the imminent explosion of myself.

I was lost. Lost in the moment. Lost in Embry.

It scarcely registered, the shredding sound of Leah's altered t-shirt as it was yanked from behind. It was only that tragic loss of heat again that snapped me back to reality as I tumbled out of Embry's still-clutching grasp.

I spun on my heel, prepared to rip the intruder to pieces, but was met with the dark and bloodshot eyes of Rachel Black. She reeked of fear, all metallic and medicinal; her scent only growing more pungent as her eyes met mine.

"They-they're fucking _killing_ each other." She was almost screaming.

I shook my head, clearing it of rage, and blinked just once before taking her hand. We ran.

She led me outside, to an alley behind the house. People had gathered, offering hoots and hollers to two bloodied and bruised men who circled each other there in the alley.

Jacob Black and Paul Lahote.

_Holy crow._

Leah positioned herself between them, having just gotten there. Jacob's shoulders fell, his whole body deflating momentarily. His eyes were fixed on Paul though, and I could see what he saw.

As we approached, Paul's nostrils flared and he immediately sought out Rachel with his eyes. His already healing face relaxed at the mere sight of her, his posture deflating in much the same way that Jacob's had seconds before.

Jacob saw this. And his body went tense as he lunged himself at Paul, who clearly saw nothing at that moment but Rachel. The impact sent Paul's unprepared body flying through the air until it landed two houses over, in the backyard.

The crowd grew larger, gasps echoing through the air and cell phones being pulled from pockets.

Turning to Rachel, I told her to stay put.

Sam was still at the Thornton Building; his Beta was one of the idiots fighting. So it was up to me to put an end to this before the fighting morons exposed our secret. As I ran, attempting a pace which would not draw further attention, I could hear Jacob.

He spat his words at Paul through clenched teeth.

"I'd rather my sister fuck a leech than your diseased ass, loser." His knuckles were bloodied, skin torn to the bone as he continued to try to pound them into Paul's battered face.

Paul lay on the ground, shielding himself from the attack, but not fighting back.

I opened my mouth, feet away from the two wolves, ready to give an unbreakable order. But I never got the chance.

Jacob brought his arm back behind him forcefully, focused only on throwing another blow into his pack brother.

Instead, his elbow had made hard contact with my face.

I felt the cracking and breaking of bones and the splitting of skin all around my eye; felt myself stumble backwards; felt the swaying of my body as it tilted; felt the sickening stomach-flip of falling; felt my skin tear and bleed as it made contact with the ground; felt the crack of my skull against the cold, hard pavement.

Things got confused then.

I saw only blackness and flashes of light, but could hear muddled and angry voices everywhere. I struggled unsuccessfully to open my eyes. One, I could tell, was swollen shut. The reason for its swelling was there, just out of reach from my memory. The other eye was simply too heavy-lidded.

My head throbbed, and a wave of nausea threatened to overtake me. My jaw tingled, feeling heavy as bile rose into my throat.

It was enough to coax my working eye open as I turned myself onto my side and threw up. Leah was there, rubbing my back.

"Come on, Swan, someone's called the cops," she grabbed my elbow and got me to my feet, keeping her hold on my arm as my body rocked. "Rachel knows someone a few houses over who'll give us a ride back to the Thornton Building." She was speaking words to me, her face a picture of worry, but I couldn't quite put the words together in a way that made sense.

So I just nodded, or something similar to a nod. And we were moving, my feet dragging a little.

Behind us I thought I could hear footfalls of multiple people, their deep voices thick with raw emotions. But then I was hit with another all-consuming wave of nausea, knees buckling under my weight as I retched.

"Jesus," beside me, Leah was rubbing my back again. "Alright, Bella, I'm gonna pick you up and carry you the rest of the way, okay?" Again, her words did little more than confuse me as I struggled to piece them together.

But there was no time for confusion, as we saw the red and blue lights of a police car on the street, approaching the house. The lights hurt my eye and made me queasy.

The she-wolf scooped me up, carrying me bridal style as she jogged to catch up with Rachel. Her warmth made my body ache for something, but I couldn't place it. I tucked my head under her chin, inhaling her ginger and rose scent, as things faded again.

When I came to again I was in an unfamiliar bathtub in an unfamiliar bathroom, my head propped against one side and legs draped over the other. I was sweating, overheated.

A set of longer, copper colored legs was draped over the tub's edge next to mine. The black ponytail of the head on my shoulder was tickling my ear.

Looking at Leah from this angle as she slept, she looked years younger. But she roused as I shifted, pulling my numb feet into the tub so blood could circulate to them.

"Leah," I whispered, unsure where we were. "Is there a reason we're in a bathtub?"

I watched, somewhat in awe, as she stretched her slender, long body. She raised an eyebrow, running her eyes over my face.

"Um, yeah." She craned her neck, eyes squinting as they continued their search of my face. "How do you feel?"

Her question jarred something in my mind. Something had happened, but it was all fuzzy. I remembered the party, the Jell-O shots.

_Was I drugged?_

I took a moment to reflect on how I was in fact feeling.

_Throbbing head.  
Black spots in my memory.  
An ache in my chest.  
A tingling in the spot on my arm.  
The taste of Jell-O and bile in my mouth._

"I kind of feel like crap." I admitted, pinching the bridge of my nose.

She snorted. "Well, at least you can form coherent thoughts now." She sat up, bringing her own legs into the tub.

"What happened?" I winced as I furrowed my brow, the action sending pain shooting through my eye.

"You don't remember?"

I shook my head. "No, I remember…" I thought for a moment, goose bumps erupting over my skin as my last memory crashed through my thoughts. "… Embry." His name came out whispered.

I had danced with Embry.  
I had almost kissed Embry.  
But then I was pulled away. _Why was I pulled away?_

Leah's lips turned upward into a small smirk. "Well, sadly, Embry getting into your pants was _not_ on the action agenda as it turns out."

Her voice went soft then. "You kinda scared the shit outta him though. And the rest of us." She sighed, picking at a broken fingernail. "And Jacob is… truly fucking lucky to still be breathing."

"What?!"

She looked up, nodding her head. "You know about imprinting, right?"

I nodded, unsure where she was going with this.

"Paul imprinted last night. On Rachel." She said it like I should have understood the significance, but it was lost on me, so she elaborated.

Paul took promiscuity to a whole new level, apparently. And I vaguely recalled Quil's introduction of Paul then, labeling him "a walking STD pamphlet". On top of that, Paul was the most volatile, and least self-controlled of the wolves.

Paul had in fact been, Leah said, groping some random girl against the side of the house when Rachel stepped outside of the house, calling Jacob's name. Paul had looked to see who was beckoning the beta wolf, his eyes going all glassy when they'd landed on Rachel's.

"Jake blames me, you know." She laughed sadly. "It was my idea to text Paul."

My eyebrows crinkled together at her quiet admission, pain shooting through my eye again.

"I knew Paul and Quil had dragged Embry's brooding ass out last night." She waited for me to put the pieces together, but I was still just as lost as ever.

"Bella, you basically confessed that he was the boy of your dreams." She rolled her eyes as my face flushed. "And the kid has had the hots for you since he first saw you."

Leah and Rachel, in their attempt to play matchmaker, had texted Paul the address to the party, knowing he'd make sure Embry showed up.

And then Paul had imprinted on Rachel.

And all hell had apparently broken loose.

Her words were nothing more than a story, as my memory of it had not returned.

"Embry went nuts." She whispered. "It was weird, Bella. I've never seen him like that before." Her eyebrows drew together and she opened her mouth to say more, but the door flew open.

Filling the frame was a shirtless, barefooted, mud-encrusted Embry Call. His hair had leaves and twigs in it. His eyes burned into Leah from beneath his long lashes. _Had he gotten bigger?_ And then he was gone; disappearing so quickly it was like he had never been there in first place.

Beside me, Leah snorted.

And something she'd said clicked.

"Wait, Leah," I turned to face her. "You said the party was _last night?_ What time is it now?"

"Um…" she glanced at her neon yellow watch, "…almost noon. Why?"

But before I could answer her, a voice came from the space Embry had just occupied.

"It's alright, Bella." Marissa's voice was quiet and her eyes played over my face much like Leah's had. "The Council has been informed of your… condition. You won't be expected to participate in the pack's orientation until tomorrow." She offered me a small smile, and I was surprised to feel my eyes water at the sight of the only person I'd truly considered a friend before I'd met the La Push pack.

"But," she said, crossing the room to sit on the edge of the tub. "Leah, I'm afraid you and Mr. Call will have to leave Bella in the hands of your mother for now. The orientation will go on with or without Bella."

Leah left shortly after that, and _Mr. Call_ never made a reappearance. Marissa had called Sue into the bathroom, and the two of them helped me out of the tub after Sue had looked me over.

We had, at some point during the night, returned to the Thornton Building. The pack was not yet aware that the Council was well staffed with doctors and nurses, so they had taken me to Sue Clearwater's room. Nurse Clearwater had diagnosed me with a concussion and several shattered bones around my eye. The vomiting was what had landed me in the bathtub.

Leah had not left my side, even once.  
And Embry had lurked outside of Sue's room throughout the night, a bloodied, muddied mess.

After Sue had watched me eat a piece of dry toast and sip at some warm tea, she allowed Marissa to walk me back to my own room. I was still wobbly on my feet, waves of mild dizziness coming and going. My bones had mended themselves; the skin had healed. But apparently I'd hit my head pretty hard, and it was taking a little longer for my brain to mend itself.

Marissa helped me into a clean pair of pajama pants and a tank top, tossing the ones Sue had loaned to me into a corner. She climbed into the bed right along with me, grabbing my hand in hers.

"So help me, Isabella Swan," her eyes were wide as she spoke, "if you ever do something so foolish again, I will turn you into a toad."

I giggled, feeling simultaneously guilty for having caused everyone to worry and grateful to have people who cared.

We drifted off to sleep together, awakened hours later when Veda stormed into my room unannounced.

"Honestly, Isabella," her voice was loud and piercing, eliciting groans from both Marissa and myself. "I don't know how you can _stand_ being around those mutts for… any amount of time!"

She collapsed at the foot of my bed, her ochre-colored robe blowing out above her.

"I have a worse headache than you do now." She muttered into the thick comforter.

Above her, Marissa and I exchanged confused looks.

"I take it their orientation went well then?" Marissa offered.

Veda's head shot up as she fixed a glare on the water witch. "Of course it did, you hag." Beside me, Marissa snorted. "Those dogs of yours, Bella," she turned her focus to me, "are…" her lips pinched together as she struggled for a word.

"…intense?" I offered. They were.

"YES!"

Paul was distracted and excited.  
Seth was happy and deeply curious.  
Leah was hurting, ashamed, and protective.  
Jacob was angry and suspicious.  
Jared was distracted and bored.  
Quil was horny.  
Sam was distracted but deeply interested.  
Embry was distracted, confused, scared, angry, excited, happy, sad, betrayed.

All of them, she said, were also deeply worried.

"I assume that has something to do with you." She cocked her eyebrow at me. "Their emotions were all over the place, Bella. And, as you said, _intense._ I have never experienced such high-voltage emotions. I'm exhausted!"

She gave me the run-down of what she'd gone over with them before she left, taking Marissa with her. But the door had not even latched before it flew open again.

"Isabella, my dear," a deep-voiced British accent came from the doorway, "what have you done to yourself this time?"

Everett Ellington, a Shifter as old as Julian himself, had been called in by the Council to help me prepare for preventing the destruction of the world.

I knew him well, having been trained by him at the council's camps.

And even though he carried a paper bag from Victor's Diner, I was pretty sure I didn't want his company. Especially for dinner.

I just wanted to go back to sleep.

But instead I found myself spilling everything to the silver-haired giant who perched at my bedside, studying me as I inhaled Victor's chicken soup. Everything, right down to the previous night's events and waking up in a bathtub with a girl.

He nodded, looking thoughtful as he took in my story. And then, as was becoming quite normal for people in my life, he abruptly rose and walked to the door.

"We'll start training tomorrow, Isabella." His voice was soft, but serious. "No more head injuries unless I inflict them."

As he left, I was hit with a sudden and fierce exhaustion.

Somehow two hours had passed in the time that Everett was in my room.

My head throbbed as I burrowed myself deep into the downy thickness of the comforter. I was cold to my bones. My chest ached. Above my head, my hand moved of its own accord, finding warmth on the wall and easing the ache in my chest just enough to allow me to fall into slumber.

* * *

_The forest was familiar. There was no sky here, only branches clawing into heaven. I was sprawled over a mossy blanket, a wispy red dress spread around me like spider webs. As I stood up, butterflies flitted around my head, landing on my shoulders and in my hair. I walked, barefooted, waiting to hear the familiar booming voice of Oren. Walked for ages, it seemed, the mossy forest floor cushioning my steps until I could walk no more. Darkness fell, my eyes no longer seeing. Something tickled at my nostrils; sandalwood, freshly cut grass, earth. Home. Warmth crept to my cheeks as I felt his presence, his eyes on my body. His touch, the texture and heat of his skin, still so fresh in my memory. I craved for more. I craved this man. His body. His mind. His heart. I could no longer bare it. It was too painful to exist without his hands on my hips, his body over mine. "Where are you?"_ _I almost didn't recognize the sultry sounding voice as my own. Even if I could not see him, I could still touch him. I lifted my arm, stretching my fingers as far as I could, trying to capture that which was mine. A large, rough, hot hand capture my own small cold one, lifting it higher as a thumb rubbed gently into my palm. My fingers landed on soft stubble and smooth, fevered skin. They danced over cheekbone and jawline. And I smiled, overcome with relief. "Isabella…" Oren's strong, soothing voice floated around us. "…you are home." I nodded, my smile growing impossibly wider. I had found my home. "Isabella, you must open your eyes then. Open your eyes, and find home. Open them, Isabella. Open your eyes now."_

Blinking my eyes, it took a fraction of a second for them to adjust to the darkness of my room. My nostrils flared as the scent hit me at the same time. I held my breath, the scent of home deep within my lungs, as I found myself looking into the deep and piercing melted chocolate eyes of Embry Call.

* * *

**A/N**

Reviewers from the previous chapter might notice something from the provided teasers missing from this chapter. I cut it out of this one – it didn't flow well. It'll be addressed in the next chapter though.

And, speaking of the next chapter, I'm open to suggestions for next chapter's POV.

And you all know the drill now: Review for teasers J


	11. Save Me, Savage Me

**A/N: **Whew! This chapter was inexplicably exhausting. I wrote and wrote and deleted and rewrote and deleted and rewrote again. And I'm still not thrilled with it. But I can't seem to put my finger on just what exactly to fix or change. Hmph. On the bright side, the next chapter is practically half finished already! Hoorah!

Big thanks to ALL my lovely reviewers, and greetings to new story followers! Also, as always, my gratitude goes to **violet eyed dreamer** for letting me play with her story.

All recognizable characters are the property of their rightful owners.

**Suggested Listening:**

Bjork – Army of Me (Sucker Punch Remix) feat. Skunk Anansie

Bonnie 'Prince' Billy – I see a Darkness

Songs: Ohia - Lioness

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

Whether You Save Me, Whether You Savage Me

* * *

_Want my last look to be the moon in your eyes  
Want my heart to break, if it must break, in your jaws  
Want you to lick my blood off your paws_

* * *

**Embry POV**

I was too exhausted to even feel exhausted.

Stepping beneath the scalding spray of the shower, I watched as the clumps of dirt and dead leaves fell from me, swirling around the shower floor before making their descent into the drain. I hadn't showered since before the party. My muscles twitched as they relaxed for the first time in 24 hours under the warmth of the water, eyes fixed on the dried blood of Bella Swan as it melted from my skin. And I released a substantial breath, one that felt as if it had been lodged in my throat for the extent of my life.

* * *

When I had snapped out of the shock of losing Bella's embrace, and had finally convinced my feet to walk out of the party, I was caught in limbo - somewhere between weeping and slaughtering.

Defeat was a lingering vinegar taste on my tongue.

I had followed a crowd of onlookers, dread washing over me as I made my way down an alley, passing house after house. My ears inherently picked out Jacob's voice above all others, though I couldn't see him through the mob.

"I'd rather my sister fuck a leech than your diseased ass, loser!" His words cut through the air in sharp rage.

I knew I was drawing nearer, the scent of wolf blood growing thicker with each step. And then a sickening sound ripped through the air. _Bones crunching. A head hitting pavement. Leah's horrified gasp. _

My feet flew beneath me as I knocked bodies out of my way.

Their scents slammed into me at once.

Bella was in distress, her scent heavy with a charcoal stench.  
Leah and Rachel both smelled of fear, chemical and metallic.

Jacob reeked of sorrow, like decaying leaves and old coffee grounds.

Paul was the only exception to the unpleasant odors. He exuded the scent of peaches; love.

As I pushed past the crowd, my eyes instinctively landed on Bella's form. She was on the ground, her face pressed into the damp grass. Her arms and legs were sprawled at odd angles, in every direction. Leah huddled over her and rubbing her back. The scent of her blood, mingling with that of Jacob and Paul, was heavy in the air.

"You stupid fucking assholes," Leah glared daggers at Jacob and Paul. My pulse quickened.

I could feel the wolf prowling just beneath the surface as I fell to my knees at Bella's side. The sight of her color-drained face triggered a nearly crippling devastation in both man and animal.

My hands unsteadily ghosted over her body, unsure where to land or how welcome they would be upon her. But I thought to check her pulse, willing the tremors in my hands to cease as I pressed fingers to her throat. It was thready and weak as it bounced to make contact with the tips of my fingers.

From my peripheral, I could see Jacob. He was moving from his position over Paul, one arm outstretched as he took steps toward us, toward _mine._

_Threat. _

The wolf broke through the surface, snarling and baring teeth at our pack brother before bounding over Bella's bloodied and bruised body to crouch defensively and possessively between the two of them. From the darkened, indistinct rift in my mind, I found myself in absolute agreement with the wolf.

_Mine._

Something in the air shifted, settling on my shoulders as, between clenched teeth, my wolf snarled a singular but heavy-weighted word. It was the one and only warning he was willing to give to our approaching pack brother.

"**Stop." **The voice from my throat was barely recognizable, saturated with violent caution.

Jacob stiffened, mouth agape and looking stunned as he froze mid-stride. The other wolves, too, went motionless in place until Bella turned over and spewed rainbow-colored vomit into the grass. Leah was the first of them to move, her hand rubbing soothingly over Bella's back.

She had just managed to get Bella up onto shaky legs when Jacob took another step, albeit sluggish and seemingly difficult, in our direction. His apologetic eyes were trained on Bella, arm still reaching for her.

A menacing growl rose from my chest.

"Bells…" his voice was no more than a murmur, and was quickly cut off as my wolf lunged at him, using all the weight of my body to slam into him. My fingers curled around his throat, face inches away from his as we toppled to the ground, rolling a few times before the wolf pinned Jacob.

"**Stay the hell _away from her_**." The words were spat into Jacob's grimacing face by the same powerful, almost unrecognizable voice that erupted from my own throat.

Beneath us, Jacob recoiled as he twisted his head almost compulsorily, baring his neck. Inwardly, my wolf howled in approval at this sign of submission until Jacob regained his composure and began to struggle. His face was contorted in wounded bewilderment, turning red and eyes searching mine as my wolf kept him pinned to the ground with fingers wrapped tight around his throat.

Fire was coursing through my veins, fueled by the wolf's rage over Jacob wounding Bella. _Mine._ Somewhere in the recesses of my brain, rationality dared to whisper its reminder that Bella Swan was not mine, that Jacob Black was our pack brother, one of my best friends, that it had all been an accident.

But the wolf felt no need to listen to the man's conscience. The wolf only saw Jacob as a threat to Bella. The wolf had never wanted for anything outside of the security and acceptance of the pack. Not until the pretty little Swan had shown up. He liked her, wanted her. She smelled so very good to him, intoxicating and seductive. And she was clever and cute and soft and molded so well into him when he had given Embry just enough of his courage to allow the quiet boy to approach the dancing Swan. The wolf had found something worth fighting for.

My lungs burned, but there was no amount of air sufficient enough to fill them. The sound of drumming rang in my ears. My vision, focused on Jacob's purpling face, blurred and darkened at the edges. I felt hands at my shoulders, pulling, beating.

It was only when the wolf retreated back into my mind, confident that he'd sufficiently punished his pack mate for injuring what was rightfully his, that Quil and Paul were able to rip me off of Jacob. And it was only then that the burning in my lungs receded. My vision righted itself. The drumming had stopped.

I let instinct guide me to Bella.

Leah was the only one willing to be near me when we arrived at the house she and Rachel had taken Bella to. She'd taken one look at me when I entered through the back door of the small house, her eyes going wide as they connected with mine, and she had promptly handed Bella to me.

We'd waited then. Sitting by my side on a couch, Leah kept watch out a front window for the departure of the police. I cradled an unconscious Bella on my lap, hiding her quickly healing face in my chest. Quil leaned against a wall on the opposite side of the room, not bothering to hide the fact that he was staring worriedly at me. Jacob and Paul had made a wise decision in staying in the kitchen together, apparently having moved past Paul's imprinting on Rachel. Instinctually, everyone else in the stranger's house gave me a wide berth.

But the small, pretty, soft girl in my arms captured my own attention almost entirely. Even through the thick haze of worry that had settled over me, I was struck with images of her body curled on top of mine, all sleepy and sinuous, as I would brush my fingertips in circles over her back until we both fell asleep.

I had to remind myself that she was not merely dozing in my arms. Nor was she "passed out drunk" as Leah had loudly proclaimed for the sake of those who were non-pack. She was hurt, and I was an asshole for lavishing in the softness of her body in my arms, the silkiness of her hair, the warm velvet flesh of the small of her back, the moist warmth of her breath as it penetrated the cotton of my shirt.

She was hurt.  
And I was definitely an asshole for not repositioning her when the succulent bow of her backside had pressed into my groin, her plump lips falling open at the same time.

"mmmmbryyy…" my name dripped from her tempting lips, my hips involuntarily rising up to push into her.

I had cursed, and gone red under Leah's amused, but disapproving look and my own self-disgust.

When we'd finally been able to return to the Thornton Building, I'd been disinclined to let Bella go so Sue could look at her. But the two Clearwater women were annoyingly insistent that Bella needed to be cleaned up. And Bella only reinforced their point when she vomited down her front in my arms.

Hours had passed as I waited outside of Sue's room. Occasionally, Sue would come out to ask if I wanted to go back in, but as much as I did, I declined, still unsure if Bella herself would want me there. I didn't dare go further away from her than that though.

I had seen them all; each pack member at one point another throughout the night and morning had flitted from their room to knock on Sam's door. They had seen me too, each one making no secret of their stares. But they kept their distance from me.

And then there was Billy.

When he had come out of his room, across the corridor from Sue's, he'd looked staggered to find me sitting on the floor, legs outstretched into the hallway. His expression of initial surprise melted away, his gaze lingering longer than I liked and turning sorrowful. He said nothing to me, only nodding his head before wheeling down the hall and knocking on Sam's door.

The two men had been shut in Sam's room for almost an hour when Jacob came out of his room. If he noticed me, he didn't let it show. He, like all the others, went to Sam's door, arm lifted to knock, but then he froze, only moving to lean his head closer to the door. Minutes passed as he stay locked in his position, facing away from me. When the door flew open, he had jumped back in surprise, met with the burning glare of Sam.

"Jacob." Sam's tone was flat. "I was actually just about to come get you," he stepped out of his room, turning to look at me. Jacob followed Sam's eyes, turning red as he figured out what I'd witnessed. "Come in." Sam stepped back into his room, closing the door when Jacob had followed.

It was 10:30 when the three of them re-emerged – three hours after having gone in.

Jacob was the only one to make his way in my direction, closing the gap between us, and kicking my foot nonchalantly. When I met his eyes, he offered a reluctant smile.

"Alright if I join you?" His eyebrows rose to match his question. His eyes were bloodshot; his face was puffy and sticky.

I nodded, feeling too drained to protest. He sat beside me, legs bent and arms draped over his knees. He let out a long breath as I sucked one in, teetering between feeling threatened by Jake and feeling relieved by his scent.

_Pack. Family._

"She okay?" His head nodded toward Sue's door.

Clearing my throat, I scrubbed a hand through my hair, catching pieces of grass and dirt in my fingers, and frowned. "Sue says she'll be fine. But…" I stretched my fingers to keep them from balling into a fist that would inevitably hurl itself at Jacob's face. "… You broke her fucking face, dude. And she has a concussion from hitting her head."

His face crumpled, cringing. The scent of his sorrow intensified. Down the hall, I saw that Sam and Billy had gathered the rest of the pack and they were headed to the elevator.

Moments passed in silence.

"I would never hurt Bella Swan on purpose, Em." I knew he meant it, of course. But it did little to ease the wolf's anger. I nodded anyway, knowing he'd been punishing himself since it had happened. He'd always been harder on himself than anyone else. People always said we had that in common.

He rubbed at his eyes, something I'd not seen him do since the last time I'd seen him cry. His mother's funeral. "So listen," his voice was pinched and he sighed. "Sam and Dad – they both want to do this differently, but… well, we've been best friends our whole lives…" He stopped, looking to me and scrunching his eyebrows together.

I knew where he was going – had hoped for it since childhood, had wondered about it since phasing, had suspected it the previous night, only more so when I saw Billy go to Sam's room, and had all but confirmed it inwardly when Jacob had been called to join them. But I waited, feeling the significance of this for Jacob.

"Fuck, man," his eyes shined beneath the tears that were gathering. "Um… so it looks like… y-you're my… you're my brother." His voice had gone; the words coming out on a whispered agonized half-laugh.

He grimaced a little.

I snorted before I could stop myself. Jacob's eyebrows pushed further together at my reaction.

I cleared my throat and sniffed. "Honestly, Jake," I let out a breath, "it's about fucking time you all figured that out for yourselves." I wasn't looking at him, not ready for that yet, but I could feel his smile as he bumped his elbow against mine.

"Actually," his voice was a little more confident, "it might never have come out if you hadn't done what you did last night."

My eyes went wide as the memory of the previous night slammed into me. The scent of Bella's blood, the power behind my words, Jake's face going purple as my fingers wrapped tighter around his throat.

"Shit, Jake, I'm… sorry." I choked. It really hit me then, what I'd done, how far I had been willing to let my wolf take things.

"S'alright, Em." He paused, sniffing and rubbing his eyes again. "We've all slipped and let the wolf take over before. Hell, I was guilty of it last night myself, and I _really_ should 'a known better. Paul's weaker than me; even if he'd been fighting back, it wouldn't 'a been a fair fight." He rested his chin on his arms.

I nodded, guilty silence falling between us for several minutes until we heard the ding of the elevator.

Out of the elevator stepped a small red-head in a blue robe, four grocery-size bags in her arms.

* * *

I had heard Bella when Sue had opened the door to take the bags of breakfast food Marissa had brought. And I'd all but pushed Sue out of the way, following the voices to the bathroom where I found Bella in the bathtub with Leah; an image that, one year earlier, would have burned itself into my memory forever and undoubtedly been a central theme in several months worth of masturbatory fantasies. But I'd grown past all of that. Mostly.

Bella was clean and dressed in fresh pajamas and awake, but I couldn't bring myself to look at her face when her gaze was so heavily on me. Instead, I fixed my eyes on Leah, while trying to _see_ Bella while simultaneously trying to not _look at_ Bella; a task that proved too difficult, even with enhanced wolf senses. But I could smell her. And there was no more distress to her scent.

She smelled good. She smelled really good. And just like that, my mood was a million times better, the wolf finally mollified.

From the hallway, Jacob snickered. Frustrated, I gave up on trying to look at her but not look at her, bolting from the bathroom doorway to the hallway where I punched Jacob in the arm, unable to bite back the grin at having seen a lucid Bella for the first time since we'd danced.

"Oh, a little brotherly love, Em?" He tackled me, catching me in headlock. And just like that, things were as they should be. Mostly.

* * *

Perhaps it just hadn't fully hit me yet.

I had suspected it for so long, that really I should have been better equipped for the moment I came face-to-face with Billy Black after learning he was my father.

My _father._

Seventeen years as the bastard child of La Push, Billy had been the only true father figure I'd known. And, after Quil's dad had passed away, we had both become constant, consistent pains in the ass in the Black household. Billy had taken on the job, taken on the orphan and the bastard, happy to do so. He had taught us about sports, respect for women, taught us how to ride bikes and helped us learn how to drive. He'd given me my first beer.

When I'd phased, my hopes turned into suspicions. But I was too much a coward to ask the questions that needed to be asked. And then, as more of us phased, I began to notice a trend.

Sam, Quil, and Jared had grown up without their fathers, as had I. Paul's father was around, but had been drunk and abusive; traits which had run Paul's mother off. Jacob's mother had died when he was small. Leah and Seth were the only ones to be raised in a two-parent household. And Leah's phasing had changed that.

We all had flocked to Billy, and he had accepted us.

But seeing him there, in his chair in the lobby, looking at me with guilty uncertainty – a look I had never seen on his face – I became angry.

Angry for the years I spent wondering. Angry for the time lost. Angry for the family I had missed out on. Angry at him. Angry at myself, for not having been good enough for him to want to claim me.

I smelled the anger rolling from Jacob too, as he glowered at Billy from my side.

He was angry on my behalf. _Just like a brother._

* * *

The elfish girl with short, purple hair had bounced around the room for hours, her little voice buzzing without pause. I hadn't even heard her take a single breath.

She'd seemed uncomfortable around us right from the start, reeling back several steps when she'd come to fetch us from the lobby. When she'd lead us into a small room filled with desks, I had noticed that she seemed concerned about putting distance between herself and the pack. But it was to no avail; there simply wasn't enough space in the room to allow for it.

And we'd sat, listening – some better than others – as she rattled on about witches and psychics and wars and vampires. I'd tuned her out around the third hour, my mind drifting from Bella to Billy to Jake to my mother to the tribe, which we'd apparently left unprotected to come and _be lectured_ for hours on end.

When she'd finally dismissed us, grumbling with hands over her face and fingers rubbing at her temples, the pack had gone to dinner as a whole, under Sam's order. Jake and I faced the pack together, revealing the secret everyone had already suspected.

Questions had erupted in panicked tones, very few of which could actually be answered. But one fact was solid; everyone had felt a shift of power the moment I – or, more accurately, the wolf - barked out an alpha command the previous night. Everyone, Sam said, including himself, had paused under the weight of the command, despite distance and having no knowledge of said command.

Oddly, the one person it didn't seem to bother was Jacob, who was drawing invisible circles on Leah's shoulder with his pinky finger as Sam made the announcement to the pack.

_Just one more thing to add to the list of fucked-uppedness that is my life._

"Dude," the sound of Quil's amused voice broke me from my thoughts. "I am suddenly _so_ glad you never shared my sentiment that Rachel and Rebecca are totally fuckable."

From across the table, Jacob and Paul simultaneously growled before Quil yelped and bent to rub his freshly kicked shin beneath the table.

_Family._

* * *

I'd declined invitations from most of the pack to go clubbing or to karaoke or to the movies or coffee shops. I'd instead retreated back to my room, only Sam accompanying me in the elevator, making plans for a council meeting upon our return to La Push. He suggested I talk to Billy, but I just wasn't up for it yet.

It seemed like years since I'd slept, months since I'd showered.

I wanted to check on Bella. But the voices coming from her side of the wall were reason to wait. So instead, I sprawled across the bed, my hand resting above my head on the wall that separated us.

I'd managed to doze off for a couple of hours before waking when I thought someone had called my name. Straining my ears, I was greeted only with deafening silence, and I couldn't get back to sleep. Too much had happened, too much weighed on my mind.

My mouth was dry, my body dirty and tense. I dragged myself from the bed, padding to the bathroom and stripping out of the clothes I'd worn for over 24 hours.

Under the steady stream of water, my muscles relaxed and my mind wandered. The events of the previous two days had been intense; high def, 3-D, Technicolor intensity. As wolves, we'd grown accustomed to our senses, our instincts, our feelings, and our thoughts – everything being turned up several notches above the average person. But we all were feeling a little overwhelmed under the weight of _big things_ that had happened since we had first spotted Bella Swan in all her endearing wonder at the airport.

Recounting each _big_ thing, my knees buckled as a wave of nausea swept over me, my hand steadying me against the wall of the shower.

_Too much._ But the wolf disagreed. A sharply satisfied laugh rolled from my mouth, startling me. The wolf was quite satisfied indeed; his pack, his brother, his father, his Bella – _his. _

He was coming to the surface a little too frequently for my taste, giving opinions I hadn't requested from him, being a little too possessive. Relief came as he backpedaled, retreating to a dark corner of my mind. I stood, willing the nausea away as I watched the filth fall from me to the floor of the shower. I wondered how I must have looked to everyone else, walking around covered in the dirt, blood, and debris was swirling into the drain of the shower. But it was only a fleeting thought as I rinsed the last of soap out of my hair and off of my skin. I heard Bella's voice in the next room as I turned off the water. Poking my head out of the shower, I waited to hear it again.

It was muffled through the wall and the steam from the shower. But the name she spoke was clear, and had me scrambling into my room for clothes.

"mmmbry…" it oozed from the walls on a moan, sending shivers down my spine. I grabbed shorts and a shirt, pulling them on as I at the door that connected our rooms – the only thing that separated us. My hand was turning the knob before I'd even gotten my arms out of the sleeve of the t-shirt I'd hastily thrown on.

As I took my first step into her room, I wondered momentarily what the hell I was doing. Nerves clenched my stomach, a potent reminder of a shyness my wolf didn't seem to share with me as he kept my feet moving forward. He stirred as her scent washed over me, a rumbled contentment in my chest.

_Lavender. Chamomile. Honey. _

I pointlessly crossed the darkened room on tiptoe, despite having become virtually soundless when I'd first phased. When one goes into a girl's room uninvited, they do so on tiptoe. Even if the loud drumming of one's heart fills the otherwise silent room more than the shuffling of feet ever could.

I was unable to stop myself from seeking out her body, a wave of calming courage eroding the shell of shy hesitation. _The wolf._ He remained in his small sliver of space in my mind, but made no secret of his manipulation of my emotions.

Bella was a restless lump in her bed, twisting beneath her covers and groaning. As I drew closer, she went still until I was at her bedside.

Her arm shot out, fingers clawing at the air between us. For a fleeting instant I panicked, thinking I'd been caught being a creeper in her room in the middle of the night.

_Jesus Christ. I was in her room. Uninvited. In the middle of the fucking night and –_

"mmmbry…" Her voice was desperate, pained, and pleading. It broke through my thoughts, my worries, brought me to my knees, clutching her blankets to my chest as I crawled from the floor into her bed.

_Bella Swan's bed._

My eyes were glued to her peaceful, sleeping face as I settled onto my back. Earlier images of tugging her into place atop my chest filled my head once more. It couldn't be helped, really. Watching Bella Swan sleep was the loveliest sight I'd seen.

Her dark hair fell across her flushed cheek as she slipped her hands beneath her head and sighed serenely. I felt my heart flip as my hands twitched beneath the burning need to reach out to her. But I couldn't allow that; they'd not been given an invitation to explore her body.

A voice in my head, sounding suspiciously like Leah Clearwater, reprimanded me for having intruded on Bella's space at all. _Never mind being in her bed without a true invitation. The very least you could do is allow her to sleep without drooling all over the poor girl._

My inner Leah was right, of course. And I knew I should leave. Her bed, her room. At the very least, I thought, I should turn onto my side, away from her parted pouty lips and the thick lashes that swept over her cheeks. But I couldn't. I needed to keep her there, in the corner of my eye, out of my reach maybe, out of my league for damn sure, but not out of my sight.

She shifted, her hands moving down to pull the blankets up around her bare shoulders.

"Where are you?" Her voice was soft, a whisper of a knife cutting through air. Her eyes were closed.

I drew a stunned, sharp breath. Déjà vu didn't even compare to this. This was a dream – my dream - coming to life. I found her hand tangled in blankets and sheets, took my time unwrapping it; a gift of the utmost importance. When it was freed from the covers, I took it in my own far larger, far rougher, far darker hand, her pale skin against my dark skin like ice and fire.

It had been such a long day. It had been a long couple of days, and a longer year. Hell, it had been a long fucking life. But the feeling of her little hand encompassed in mine was like breathing… or eating… or sleeping. It was something I needed, not just something I craved. And I'd gone too long without it.

My hand carried hers, gently, slowly to my face as I rubbed my thumb over the lines in her palm, learning her future etched there. I was close enough to feel her breath wash over my face as her fingers scraped against my cheek, moving of their accord as they left a tingling trail over my jawline. She smiled.

_God, she fucking smiled._

"Home." She breathed, her voice like blissful little bells.

And then she opened her big, liquid eyes; bottomless pools of _so_ much emotion as they locked onto my own, it stole my breath, my thoughts, my heart. I would gladly have drowned in Bella Swan's eyes. My heart skipped one, then two beats.

When it beat again, it was the warmth from her eyes that rippled out from it, spilling into my veins, penetrating the deepest corners of my soul, spreading itself like a blanket to mend any cracks there within.

I was filled to the brim, certain that the glowing warmth was spilling out from my eyes, my nose, my lips, my fingertips, and every strand of hair.

I blinked. Once. Twice. Three times, before remembering to breathe.

Her hand was still at my cheek, fingers inching into the still wet hair above my ear. She was still smiling, a smile that was wider than her face, and I could see even in the dark that she was blushing. And she smelled impossibly good as I filled my lungs with her scent.

Lavender. Chamomile. Honey.

Peaches.

_Love._

I choked on the thought, trying to breathe around the bubble of warmth in my chest, but accidentally breaking whatever trance Bella was in. Her smile faltered, her eyebrows furrowed, her hand started to pull away.

_No._

I wasn't ready for that yet; wasn't ready to lose her touch. Wasn't ready for her to look away. Wasn't ready to be questioned or thrown out or alone. I felt unworthy of this, yes, unworthy of her. I was so utterly flawed, so completely inadequate. But I was also selfish and starved, unsure if I could physically endure losing the penetrating purity being bestowed upon me.

_You're gonna hafta talk to the girl. _Inner Leah practically screamed from my head.

"Home?" The only thing I could think to say, the only word I could manage without declaring my undying love and devotion.

But it was enough. And though I didn't understand why, it brought her smile back to her face at full force.

She ran her thumb over my brow before raking her fingernails over my scalp, her eyes squinting. A hint of coyness played into her smile when her fingers caused a full-body shiver in me. And she locked her palm at the back of my head, pulling herself closer to me, only a whisper of air between us.

I could hear her heart, beating in time to my own.

She nodded, resting her forehead against mine and not once breaking eye contact. Her other hand came between us, grabbing onto mine. She placed my thumb to my own lips before laying it atop her heart, the relentless teenage, still-scared-of-girls part of my brain giggling wildly at the proximity of my hand to her breasts. And then she assigned a kiss to her own thumb before resting it above my heart.

"Home." Her smile was gone, only utter sincerity etched over her beautiful features.

Below her thumb, my heart raced.

Below my thumb, hers did too.

* * *

**A/N **Reviewers are loved! And they get teasers (unless asked otherwise) for the next chapter :)


	12. You Are Mine, O Now Forever

**A/N:** Advance warning to those who reviewed last chapter; this is NOT the full chapter I had hoped to post. The past week of my life has been all sinus infection fun and trying to de-skunk my dog and house. Great times have been had by all, I assure you! Anyway, this bit here was just the very beginning part of the chapter (that is still coming, and is nearing completion). It stands well enough on its own that I am able to go ahead and send it out into the universe. A peace offering, I suppose, since the chapter isn't going up yet. I do hope you all enjoy it! Review, review, review! (And if you have any good de-skunking tips for carpets and furniture, PM me!)

**Suggested Listening:**

Bonnie 'Prince' Billy – After I Made Love to You

* * *

_Eloquent, I soon retire_  
_To nothing else I may aspire_  
_After I've made love to you_

_In the dark I see you glisten_  
_To your breath I lay and listen_  
_After I've made love to you_

_In your arms I'm softly resting_  
_Memories of you undressing_  
_And your lips my final blessing_  
_I never knew_  
_The embrace that I'd been lacking_  
_Has been found with kisses smacking_  
_And two bodies there attacking_  
_I and you_

* * *

**Chapter Twelve  
**You Are Mine, O Now Forever

* * *

Plumes of breath tumbled from her anxious lips, skimming over his hesitating ones for just a instant; an instant wherein Embry Call was seriously considering kissing Bella Swan, a moment wherein every one of his insecurities were brought to the surface. A moment wherein the sour taste of self-loathing filled his mouth just before it was replaced with the sweet, sumptuous taste of her.

_Honey._ In a flash of what he could only guess was stress-induced absurdity; Embry overlooked that Bella's lips were pressing against his own. Instead, he found himself envisioning a childhood cartoon – the plump, brown, singing Russian bear, tying a great blue balloon to himself, and floating high into a tree to dip into a beehive filled with honey.

Bella, on the other hand, was overcome with embarrassment.

She had gotten lost in his impossibly dark eyes, the world itself coming to a complete halt before it began a new rotation; one that revolved entirely around Embry Call.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had figured out what had happened. She had heard the legends since her first phase, recognized the symptoms. Had every intention of absolutely, under no circumstances, kissing him. Had every intention of talking, and talking only. Had every intention of establishing this no-kissing-just-talking rule right away.

But just as she flattened her palm against his chest, with every intention of gently pushing him a safe distance away, and had opened her mouth with every intention of gently explaining the importance of keeping each other at arm's length for a while, she had sucked in a breath through her mouth. And, with Embry being merely a breath away from her, the very breath she'd sucked in, she had tasted _his_ breath. And it tasted so very good. So very good that she found herself fixating on what his tongue must take like.

Her good intentions grew fuzzy in her mind. She no longer could remember what she was going to say. In fact, she didn't remember that she had been about to say anything at all.

No, instead she found focus on his eyes, his nose, his hands, his cheekbones, and finally, his lips.

He was so beautiful, creased brow and glistening eyes and perfect copper skin and silky, damp hair and just a hint of masculine stubble. But it was his mouth that her gaze was drawn to like a magnet. Luscious, pink lips that were unquestionably the most appetizing thing she'd ever seen.

So it came to pass that, very much like the cat she was, little Bella Swan had pounced on the object of her desire. She was, of course, unaware that he was deliberating doing the very same to her, if only he could have gotten past the nagging voice of self-abasement in his head. She was unaware, honestly, of anything beyond his juicy lips. She was unaware that she'd taken him by surprise when her lips crashed into his.

But the moment it happened, her own insecurities crashed to the forefront of her mind, just as teeth crashed into teeth, and nose crushed against nose. Bella Swan had never kissed anyone. She could not be sure if she was doing it right; in fact, she was certain she must be doing it all wrong since the recipient of her kisses remained quite frozen in place.

By the time Embry had snapped back to reality, shaking the gleeful brown bear from his thoughts, and he had become acutely aware of an attack being waged against his mouth, Bella had had sufficient time to succumb to her doubts.

Her face reddened, the shade only deepening as her lips ceased their endeavors and her brain caught up to her actions. He tasted like black licorice. And though it had never before been her favorite candy, she simply couldn't seem to get enough of it from him to satiate her. She wanted more, so much more, but it wasn't hers to take and he clearly wasn't offering.

She had just started to pull away despite her strong reluctance, deeply wishing that she could take her actions back, be a better kisser, disappear completely, or at the very least that she could think of something – _anything_ – remotely coherent to say to him.

Embry had not been prepared for Bella Swan to kiss him at all. The thought, in fact, had never crossed his mind. Oh, he had thought about kissing her, of course, but had convinced himself that, even though he had just found his soul's complete match, he would undoubtedly be rejected, a feeling with which he was already too familiar.

Such rejection would have come in the form of a slap across the face. But Embry had been internally debating whether or not a slap to the face was worth getting to taste Bella's lips. It was, of course. A hundred slaps to the face would have been worth it. But whether or not he could take something so sacred when it was not offered was another matter.

Luckily, he'd not had to. The impossibility of Bella kissing him was, as it happened, possible. And, Embry had determined, that impossible possibility was very much so _occurring_. She'd seemed more than willing to offer him those lips, and like an idiot, he'd frozen. Because never in Embry Call's life did things really and truly go his way. And because she tasted so utterly, completely, desperately _sweet_ that his brain had malfunctioned and conjured images of frolicking bears, balloons, and bees.

But he had snapped back, yes. And she was pulling away, the scent of tears looming, and he was having no part of that.

Bella stiffened, hovering a breath away from Embry's licorice lips, his quiet guttural disapproval halting her retrieval. She was nervous, and Embry could smell it. The knowledge ever so slightly eased his own nerves and allowed a ghost of a smirk to fall across his lips. Inwardly, his wolf hummed contentedly. _His mate._

Bella shivered under his searing touch as he brought his free hand to her cheek, memorizing the feeling of her skin beneath his fingers. Below the thumb of his other hand, Embry could feel Bella's heart race hopelessly faster as her temperature spiked. He couldn't stop his eyes wandering to that very spot where his thumb bumped up and down as his mate's heart thumped wildly under its warmth.

Her pale skin. Practically see-through in its expanse below his thumb, which had dared to journey lower than where Bella had placed it. Tracing over light blue veins visible beneath milky flesh, his thumb followed their most captivating lines over her not-nearly-exposed-enough cleavage. Her veins continued on, dipping below her tank top. It only intensified his already throbbing desire to rip the thin fabric from her body. Especially as that skin flushed pink before his eyes.

That agonizingly mouth-watering scent of her arousal. It hit his nostrils at almost precisely the same moment that he watched two perfect pebbles appear beneath the thin fabric of her shirt as his thumb ran along the neckline. On instinct, fueled by her intoxicating scent, his hand traveled lower, over the thin fabric, until his thumb had ghosted over the small, taut peak. Her breath hitched in the most seductive way.

"Beautiful." The word, a raw almost-whisper, came from his lips before the thought had even formed in his mind and he felt his cheeks grow warm. The sound of his own voice had broken through whatever lustful spell he'd been under.

Somewhat, anyway.

And he found himself feeling every bit as bashful as aroused. But, once again, the wolf was there, quick to send a wave of courage – enough that he met Bella's gaze as she looked to him through heavy lashes. The smile she gave him, a stunning cross between playful and shy, made his heart flutter.

Bella found herself at a crossroads between being self-conscious under his steady stare and throwing him back into the pillows to attack his perfect lips again. She had never experienced anything like his appraisal before. His eyes were filled to the brim with adoration, nothing she had ever seen. But they were also…

_Hungry.  
Starving.  
Burning._

It made her itch in the most delicious way.

He was still only just a breath away from her lips. She could feel the moisture and heat from his mouth. She felt the warmth of his hand, branding her flesh. She felt him harden against her thigh. She wanted so badly to taste him again, the urge devastating as she curled her fingers tighter into his damp hair in a meager attempt to fight it.

She had all but completely melted into him when he surprised her by beating her to the punch.

Her heart missed a beat when he seized her lips with his. She blushed under the tenderness of his kiss, embarrassed by how she'd attacked him before. But it didn't – _couldn't _– last long. Not when his lips were so very delectable; soft, sweet licorice molding to her inexperienced lips. In fact, her embarrassment was wholly crushed as Embry's teeth found and latched onto her bottom lip, gently dragging it into his mouth where his tongue flicked across its width.

She moaned under the weight of her puckering flesh, his tongue taking advantage of the new gap between her lips, nudging them open further. She surrendered to him, finding that she had no resolve to refuse him any piece of her. She was his now. Completely. Happily. She would give him all of herself if he would take it.

And he took. Greedily. Hungrily.

His tongue found hers, dancing over it before exploring the rest of her mouth, tasting, learning. She made up her mind then; though she had no prior experience on which to gauge, she was completely confident that Embry Call was a truly exceptional kisser.

Embry was drunk, delirious from the taste of her mouth. His chest had rumbled a sedately possessive growl as his tongue tangled itself around Bella's. Her mouth was hot and sweet and soft and wet. He felt her press her body further into his, felt her breasts against his chest. Her scent was so heavy in his nose, swirling through his head, inflicting rewarding vertigo, and draining his blood from his head.

Bella's tongue darted against his own, fighting for dominance, craving exploration of his mouth, slithering itself along his lips and against his teeth. She plundered his mouth while synchronously raking fingernails over his scalp, only stopping to twist fingers into his mop of hair and tug on it, a deed that triggered the hitching of his breath and the shifting of his hips to press himself ever closer to the pretty little body writhing against him.

His hands seem to move of their own accord, moving to Bella's back. He found himself momentarily amazed at just how incredibly tiny she really was, as one of his hands took up nearly the entire expanse of her back. So, he reasoned, it really couldn't be helped that when her tank top had started riding up, his hands were on soft, bare flesh.

When Bella's lips moved away from his, trailing over his jaw and down to his throat, he had obediently bared it to her. Because he was hers. Irrefutably. Unequivocally. Enthusiastically. Thankfully. Entirely. Hers. And the satisfied purr from her throat only fueled his longing to give her every last piece of himself.

So when Bella's little hands balled around the collar of his shirt, and she tugged at him, he more than happily complied, rolling over her and resting the majority of his body's weight on his elbow as he positioned himself above her. When Bella's little fingers flitted over his chest, down his stomach, clutching onto the hem of his shirt, and tugging it upward, he contentedly removed the displeasing article from himself, gripping at its back from over his shoulder and ripping it over his head before burying his face into her collarbone with a grunt.

Bella had gasped softly at the sight before her, eyes raking over hardened abdominal muscles and impressive pectorals and _so much _hot, flawless copper skin. Her own shirt had ridden up to expose her flat, pale stomach; a feature she normally was somewhat self-conscious about. But under the burning skin of Embry Call, she could only be grateful that the fabric had bunched up as it did, leaving their torsos skin-to-skin.

Her fingers explored the newly exposed territory of his back, snaking along the bumps of his spine, running over sharp mountains of shoulder blades. When he nipped at her collarbone with his teeth, she'd involuntarily squealed and sank her fingernails into his back, her inner feline humming as it kneaded its claws into forgiving muscle. And when her fingernails had caused his hips to rock forward, he had pressed himself against her very itch that so badly needed his scratch. They both had moaned throatily under the contact, and Bella had unknowingly arched her back and wrapped her legs around Embry's waist.

Embry's teeth grazed over her skin, latching on to the strap of her shirt and softly slipping it off her shoulder. The other strap was found by seeking fingers and removed in much the same way as his lips peppered soft kisses over each shoulder and every inch of exposed skin between them.

Groping hands, swollen lips, scratches, and bite marks.

This was their position as the door to Bella Swan's room tore open. It was their position as their corresponding scents were pulled toward that door. It was their position as they each felt multiple sets of eyes on them. It was their position as booming voices flooded in before abrupt silence encompassed them.

"Uh…" It was Quil's voice that broke through the heavy silence, promptly followed by the thwacking sound of someone's hand coming into fast contact with the back of his skull.

* * *

**A/N: ** Oh boy...

Like it? Love it? Hate it? Let me know! Reviewers are loved and are lavished with teasers for upcoming chapters. That said, since this was, in fact, just the very beginning of the chapter you reviewers had expected, there will be no new teasers for previous reviewers. If you didn't review last chapter, but review this one, I will totally throw in the teasers for you for the next chapter (and if you don't want any teasers, but still wanna voice your opinion, just let me know your preference – I promise not to force my teasers on anyone)! And, of course, you lovelies who DID review last chapter are encouraged to keep 'em coming! I love you all, and cannot begin to tell you all how rewarding it is to actually get the feedback!

So, that bit at the beginning about the Russian bear? Of course Embry wouldn't just like plain old Pooh bear. No, he prefers Vinni Puh (Russian Winnie the Pooh from the 1960s). I have posted a link to some Vinni Puh youtube goodness on my profile for anyone who might be curious. I will warn you though, it borders on too much cute!

Also, did everyone read **WhoNatural**'s recent update of **Butterflies and Hurricanes**? I've said it before, and I'll say it again until I'm blue in the face: Her Embry DOES IT for me. Actually, her entire wolf pack does it for me. And her Embry? Yeah, her geeky, delicious Embry? Totally the inspiration behind some of my own Embry's qualities. So if you haven't checked out her story (though surely most of you have), DO IT. You will not regret it. And send her some review love while you're there.


	13. Don't Leave Me Alone

**Suggested Listening:**

Okkervil River – It Ends With a Fall  
Yellow Note Vs. Pukka – Naked, Drunk, and Horny

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen  
**Don't Leave Me Alone

* * *

_I know it's coming down  
And see it shattering me  
It doesn't matter to me  
And I'm not sadder for seeing it come  
I'm not going to run  
I will just come  
When I am called_

* * *

She couldn't be sure what had prompted her turn around. The little hairs at the back of her neck had bristled in an attempt to resist the urge; something within her fighting with everything it had against her twisting body.

_Instinct._

_Dread._

For better or worse, she spun, unable to resist the need to face whatever was approaching, to defend herself, despite the instinct which screamed at her that she did not want to see it.

She was a warrior.

A Shifter.

Built for fighting the fiercest supernatural predators in existence.

But nothing had prepared for her for what flooded her eyes, spilling over into every last piece of her, every thought.

Her lungs drowned in it.

Her heart splintered beneath it.

Her stomach clenched around it.

The moment was bizarrely still, time ceasing to exist in it. There seemed to be _so much_ time. And yet, there was simultaneously none at all.

She had frozen. Felt trapped. Couldn't move.

* * *

Beneath shaking arms, Embry had felt Bella wither.

Behind Quil, the entire pack had piled into the room through the wide-open door. They had gone abruptly still and silent, but Embry could easily smell their varying degrees of shame. It troubled him that the potency of Bella's regret far outweighed the collective emotion of the pack.

He hadn't been able to bring himself to look at her, to see remorse in her eyes for what had happened between them – for what almost inevitably would have happened between them had they not been interrupted.

A tremor ran over his spine at the brief thought of what could have transpired between them, and he pressed ever tighter into her collarbone, the dreadful premonition of her reaction to the intrusion slicing right into his heart.

Embry had turned red, even his dark complexion unable to hide the physical reaction to a muddled mix of fury and humiliation, desperate need and undeniable fear. His entire body seemed to deflate as Bella's legs untangled from their place around his midsection.

She had known what had happened the very instant their eyes had connected. Her feelings for him, so wholesome and intense, had been completely unrestrained under just the touch of his hand.

And he had reciprocated.

Oh, he had reciprocated so divinely. But in the harsh light of reality, she remembered that Embry Call was a confusing boy – all hot and cold. And she'd wanted his acceptance so desperately. And now she knew she had it. But it hadn't been earned. He hadn't had a choice.

_What had she done?_

Her eyes were the first to change, and Bella made sure to fix them on Quil, because even though a part of her was glad they'd been interrupted before the pull caused them to do something Embry may not truly have wanted to do with her, another part of her was seething. And that part of her wanted to see the intruder's expression as her eyes went wholly black. That dark part of her was pleased to see him pale considerably. And when her phase had completed, she'd brushed her feathers against Embry's bare shoulder before flying from the bed and out the door.

Clenching his jaw, he had let her go, knowing there was nothing he could say to convince her to stay. His hands trembled and burned, wanting to reach out to her as she soared from the bed. She was his world. He needed her. Wanted her. Didn't deserve her. Couldn't force this upon her.

His stomach rolled, and his mind scolded his heart for hoping. His hands twitched and ached, wanting to push her away, let her go, let her have a choice even though he knew she'd never choose him. She regretted what had just happened. He had smelled it.

_What had he done?_

At the opposite end of the hallway, Sue stood outside her room. She had been surprised to receive any call at all on the phone in her room, but had obliged the chirpy young girl on the other end of the line who had insisted that she gather a change of clothes for Bella Swan and wait in the hallway.

Still, it was somewhat shocking to witness the large black bird fly from a room at the other end of the long corridor. The Quileute woman had become accustomed to seeing horse-size, imposing wolves. She had two of them living under her roof. She reasoned that, in comparison, a black bird seemed quite mild.

The bird made its way toward Sue, and she couldn't shake the feeling that something about the bird seemed quite sad. Perhaps even defeated.

It landed at her feet, looking to her but making no sounds.

"Bella?" Sue's brows furrowed. The bird ruffled its feathers. She supposed that was as good an answer as any. "I… have some clothes… for you…?"

She followed the Bella bird as it hopped into her room, and closed the door behind them.

"**Get out**!" Down the hall, even Embry's voice was a muddled mix, somewhere between an alpha command and a desperate plea. It was effective though, as it had most of the pack scrambling to all fit at once through the small doorway.

Quil was the lone wolf who lingered, openmouthed and eyes wide in prolonged shock.

They'd all felt it before, the ripple that went through the pack when an imprint struck. But what they'd felt earlier that night was so much stronger, so much more intense, that it hadn't even occurred to any one of them as the source.

They had been pulled back to Thornton Building, none of them able to resist, pulled back to their floor, pulled straight to the door of Embry's room by the mysterious force.

To Quil, it all felt very… science fiction. Like Embry was the Jedi Grand Master, using telepathy to summon his Jedi Knights.

To Quil, it was all very exciting as he imagined the different ways he'd use his Force- given telekinesis to get girls to bend over in front of him.

When they'd arrived at Embry's room, Quil hadn't bothered to knock. In fact, it hadn't even crossed his mind. They had never knocked at each other's houses in their entire lives. It didn't even occur to him that he might be opening the door to the wrong room.

He deeply regretted it. He did. Because, despite the fact that he had developed a touch of a crush on Bella Swan in the small amount of time he had spent with her, he was more than aware of the feelings his best friend harbored for the tiny pale face. And Embry, in all truth, desperately needed to get laid.

Quil had never understood his friend's hesitation with girls. He had seen several of them check Embry out at school before he ever phased. And post-wolf, well, the number of girls who took notice of Embry had grown to include pretty much the entire female population, and they were downright shameless in their attempts to win Embry's attention.

It just happened to be Quil's good fortune that Embry didn't notice such things, and Quil had often stepped up to be the shoulder upon which those poor rejected girls could cry. Embry would have wanted it that way.

But Embry had noticed Bella. In a big way. All of them had.

When Quil had opened (what he thought was) Embry's door, their scents had slammed into him with all the force of a tsunami. Wave after wave, layer after layer. His nose was nowhere near as superior as Embry's, but the emotions rolling off of the two of them were palpable.

Lust. Hunger. Need. Love.

He'd nearly fallen to his knees under the weight of it. He'd nearly tossed Leah from her place in the doorway so he could bolt from the room. He'd nearly shouted whoops of encouragement.

Instead of doing any of those things, he'd frozen, a forgotten incident from his very early childhood suddenly very vividly replaying itself in his mind.

He'd been four years old, waking in the middle of the night after a nightmare involving Big Bird and a hot glue gun. He'd called out for his mama and daddy, big crocodile tears spilling over his chubby cheeks and falling onto his racecar pillowcase. He'd waited for them to come to him, to soothe him, as they had done so many times before. But when they did not, he'd gone looking for them instead. He'd wandered to their bedroom, his worn blue and orange Popple clutched tight in his arms, and walked in on a scene that, quite frankly, frightened him far worse than a hot glue gun wielding Big Bird ever could.

It wasn't until after everyone else had left that Quil snapped back from his harrowing flashback. And this was somehow _so_ much more awkward than that experience. But when Embry turned his head, his yellowed canine eyes connected straight with Quil's apologetic ones, sending him scrambling out of the room as if it were engulfed in flames. It wasn't until he was safely tucked inside his own room that Quil was able to relax enough to silently applaud his best friend.

After all, Bella Swan was like a hot Yoda.

* * *

"Come, young Swan, we have things to discuss." The old voice, thick with wisdom and rough from years of inhaling smoke, was quiet as it called to her from an open door near Sue's room. He knew she'd be able to hear him.

She'd lost track of time in Sue's arms, the Quileute elder offering her a comfort that only a mother could. It made her miss her own mother something fierce, which only resulted in more tears and Sue's embrace growing ever tighter around her.

"I respect your desire to give Embry a choice in all of this," Sue had admitted after she'd coaxed Bella to tell her what was wrong. "But you cannot know what his heart wants without asking him, now can you?" Her hands had cradled Bella's face as she shook her head.

She'd made a decision then, to go and talk to Embry immediately. Talk. Just talk. No kissing. Or touching of any kind.

As she walked out of Sue's room, she wondered if they should talk through the wall that separated their rooms. No looking. No touching. No kissing.

But as soon as she'd left the room, she'd been beckoned to another. She sniffed once, wiping a stray tear from her red cheek, before straightening her shoulders and padding to the room with the opened door. She half-expected to be chased down and blocked by wolves. But when she stopped in front of the room to look back to the room she'd abandoned hours prior, it was clear that no one had even so much as tried to seek her out.

With a saddened sigh, she entered the smoky, dim room and closed the door behind her.

Old Quil sat on the floor, surrounded by ashtrays filled to their brims. His room smelled sweet, despite the thick clouds of smoke filling the small space.

"Come, sit." He instructed gruffly. Bella chewed her lip for a beat before crossing the short distance between them and taking a seat directly in front of the wrinkled man as he'd gestured.

He studied her in silence, and while it normally would have made her squirm in discomfort, she found herself only studying him in return. He was even more wrinkled up close, and she tried to imagine the stories behind each imperfection.

"You have darkness in you." The sudden sound of his voice startled her. And his words were troubling. Still, she said nothing.

"It is okay, child," He reached for her hand, his rough skin brushing over hers. "To have darkness is to be human. We all have darkness. Your darkness is deep, indeed, but do not assume this is bad. The dark hides all things; good and bad alike."

Bella could only nod, unsure how to reply. He seemed briefly satisfied, but his smile dropped abruptly as their fingers connected when he had begun to pull his hand back from hers.

"You have much responsibility resting on your shoulders." He looked at her with solemn eyes. "I do not envy you in the days ahead, Dark Swan. They will be troubling for you. But you will have the support of your pack, always. If you will let them." He gave a curt nod, and patted her hand before rising and getting into his bed. "Please turn off the light before you leave."

Stunned, she rose from her spot on the floor. "Um… g-goodnight then." She flicked the switch and left the smoky room, feeling quite confused.

Outside the old man's door, the weight of everything came crashing down on her petite shoulders. His words echoed through her mind.

_Your pack._

It hadn't even crossed her mind before. In the dark of her room, there was only her and there was only Embry. But the possibility of having gained _so much_ more – brothers and sisters – was terrifying. It could all be taken back. It could all be refused. That decision was entirely Embry's, and Embry's alone. She couldn't take that from him, but he could take an entire potential family away from her.

She couldn't face him. Not yet. Not when she had just realized exactly how much was at stake. Not when she wouldn't be able to stop herself from begging him to accept her. Because she wanted _all of them_ almost as much as she wanted him. And the two desperate individual desires were barely manageable. Combined, knowing that it all rested in his perfect hands, it was too much.

It was all too much.

No, she couldn't face him. Not like this.

Stepping further into the hallway, her eyes scanned the rows of doors. She chewed her lip, trying to bite back the tears that were pooling in her eyes.

"Leah…" she spoke softly, her voice shaky and rough, and she felt more than one set of ears eavesdropping. A door opened almost instantly, the tall copper goddess's silhouette appearing in the dimly lit space. Bella felt her shoulders sag as a sob seeped from her mouth.

Leah took a meticulous, slow step into the hallway, head bowed tamely, but arms lifting toward the smaller girl. Bella had never been part of a pack, and did not recognize the gesture for what it was: an offering, an apology, and a submission. Instead she lunged toward the comfort and warmth she knew Leah's embrace and ginger rose scent would provide.

And as Bella jumped up to wrap her arms around Leah's neck, Leah found herself relaxing and burying her nose into the thick matted hair of the tiny girl. She couldn't help the contented rumble in her chest as she inhaled the combined scents of her alpha and his mate, even though she felt sickened and guilty for having been part of their interruption.

"Sh, Bella, stop crying," she cooed into Bella's neck while soothing her hands over Bella's hair. "C'mon, let's go in my room before the boys all come out. Why they think it's helpful to stand around awkwardly and stare when a girl is crying I will never understand."

She thought she heard Bella choke on a giggle amidst her sobs before she let go of Leah's neck and sulked into the room. She trailed behind, closing the door behind her and grabbing a box of tissues she was sure had not been sitting on the dresser before. She flung herself onto her bed, alongside Bella.

"So…" she breathed, only slightly worried that her punishment was still to come, "I'm sorry about – _you know_…" She paused, listening to Bella's muffled sniffles. "We uh… didn't know."

Bella flopped over, her splotchy face aimed at the ceiling. "Gah! I… it's okay… I don't… c-care about that… g-glad you all… in-interrupted." She was sobbing again, and Leah, who was wholly out of practice with being around girls, much less being friends, and much, much less how to comfort a weepy one, was at an utter loss.

After considering her options momentarily, she chewed her lip and opted to dangle the box of tissues above Bella's head. Cool relief washed over her when the other girl's little hand reached out to retrieve one.

They'd laid on the bed in companionable silence. Bella had drifted into a restless and short sleep while contemplating her feelings for the pack as a whole. Her last coherent thought had been a reflection of how she'd felt about each pack member, how she had felt straight away that she was not meeting new people with a potential for friendship, but rather that she was recognizing old, and very dear, friends. Her heart had recognized her family before she did.

She woke before Leah the next morning, surprising herself when she managed to not wake the she-wolf as she left.

She was only mildly surprised to see Marissa waiting for her right outside of Leah's door. Her arms were around Bella's neck before the door had latched.

"I already know you don't want to talk about it," she whispered, aware of the sensitive ears surrounding them. "But I also know you aren't ready to go back to your room yet, so come with me and you can borrow some of my clothes."

"Niyati?" She already knew the answer, but her red-headed friend was right; she didn't want to talk about the real matter at hand.

Marissa nodded, shrugging her shoulders as she led the way to the elevator. "She was just worried about you, Bella. Anyway, you can't very well teach the pack anything in Mrs. Clearwater's pajama shorts and tank top. You don't even have underwear on, do you? Unless, of course, you _want_ to give the pack another love show."

* * *

It had been an emotionally and physically exhausting day for Bella.

She had left Marissa's room in yoga pants and a tank top, armed with a change of clothes and had made her way to Sublevel 5 to meet Everett. It was her first day of training, and considering what she was training for, she was unsure what to expect.

She was momentarily relieved when he'd decided that, since she was still recovering from a concussion, they'd work on meditation that day. But anxiety quickly settled over her at the prospect of silence and being trapped with her thoughts. Frankly, she would much rather have kicked the hell out of a punching bag. But the lanky silver-haired brute had not relented.

By the time they had finished, she was ready to curl up in her bed for the rest of time, if only she could sleep away her feelings.

She changed her clothes, running through different excuses she could give to get out of facing the pack. In the end, though, her need to see them, her need to see _him_ outweighed her dread. The physical pain of the pull was too much.

She only needed to see him. To be near him. She wouldn't make him talk to her. It would be enough. It would have to be enough. If only she could make herself believe it…

She supposed it should have been a relief that she hadn't needed to go out of her way to avoid Embry, as he seemed to be dodging her every bit as much.

She'd gotten through telling them the histories of the Shifters with minimal hiccups. She was still embarrassed about what they'd all witnessed, embarrassed for what happened, but more than that she was frightened to let herself feel anything for any of them, frightened to open herself up again.

But trapped in a tiny room with the wolves, their scents swirling around her, their eyes on her, their understanding and apologetic smiles, their attempts to lighten the awkward atmosphere with jokes, their laughter; it was impossible not to love them.

_Her pack._

She'd gotten through it, Veda filling in any blanks she drew.

When it was finished, the purple haired empath pulled Bella aside.

"I don't know what's going on, but you all are depressing the hell out of me, Bella Swan." She whisper-shouted, eyes scrunching as she glowered at Bella.

"I… w-what do you mean?"

"The whole pack is feeling scared and sad. And don't even get me started on you and the broody one. One minute you're all longing and needy, the next you're terrified and nervous, then you're… I don't know… intoxicated? And he's the same! Yesterday's batch of emotions were a headache, but I'll take a headache over misery any day…"

When Bella had only cast her eyes to the floor and picked at the silver belt of her robe, Veda had rolled her eyes and spun on her heel, leaving Bella alone.

Always alone.

She had retreated back to her room, opting out of dinner despite her rumbling stomach. She just didn't have it in her to face Embry and the pack again. She'd see them in the morning when the Council would officially receive them.

She had just slipped the key into the door handle when a hot, rough hand clamped over her mouth.

His lapse in judgment was unfortunate. She was but a miniature person, short, skinny, and pale; and, Quil had assumed kidnapping Bella Swan would be a simple task. But after Bella's sharp feline teeth had pierced through the palm of his hand and her little foot had flattened his giant one with notable power, her elbow had made swift, hard contact with his groin. Quil was on his knees mere seconds after surprising her.

"AGH! Bella, it's me!" He whimpered, his bloodied hand stretched out in front of him, body crumpled at her feet. "It's… it's Quil!" At his point, he wasn't sure if that would help or hurt his case.

And neither was Bella, if she was honest.

* * *

She couldn't remember what had prompted her to take pity on Quil. But she silently made an oath not to make such a mistake again as Quil finished lacing her roller skate for her.

"M'lady…" He stood on his own skates, hand outstretched to her. And she recalled with sudden clarity why she had decided to not kill him outside her room. The puppy dog eyes.

Quil had taken an instant and avid interest in Marissa when he'd seen her in the diner. And when he'd learned that she was a friend of Bella's, he had started to formulate a plan to make things up to his best friend. It had come up that her aunt owned a roller rink in Seattle, and the plan all but exploded in his mind.

Bella had observed the two during the cab ride to the roller rink. Quil's eyes sparkling as they landed on her friend's Princess Leia t-shirt, the Star Wars jokes flying back and forth between them. The red-headed little water witch may have been all business when it came to council matters, but Bella had seen her friend's lighter side. And from what she had seen from Quil, both in and outside of his own head, she thought their light-hearted and over-the-top nerdy personalities complimented each other well.

She had felt a bit like a third wheel, but when they'd arrived at the roller rink, Marissa had veered away from them to take a seat behind a tall counter next to a woman who looked like a slightly older version of Marissa. Whatever Quil had planned, she had realized, it didn't really involve Marissa.

She rolled her eyes, huffing as she roughly grabbed him by the hand. The gesture was meant to display her annoyance, but it quickly turned genuine as she flailed on the wheels attached to her feet.

He chuckled, a deep, rich sound as he held her up. They both regarded the ceiling as a speaker above them asked for all minors to exit the building. They shared a knowing grin, only growing relentlessly bigger as Quil's mouth fell open and he let loose an impressive squeal at the first words to the rink's signature Adult Night song.

_Hold me when I'm naked  
Hold me when I'm drunk  
And stumbling down the staircase  
That I built with my own hands  
Hold me when I'm horny  
Tell me you adore me  
Couldn't you for one day  
Just submit to my demands_

"It's on now, Swan!" He pulled her to the rink.

She was pleasantly surprised at how well she did. Quil was solid and strong and more than willing to let her cling to him for dear life. The few times she nearly fell, he had hardly winced at all when her fingernails drilled into his skin for support. And by their third trip around the rink, she was actually beginning to relax in Quil's company, and found herself having fun.

"Later, Yoda." He'd bent down to whisper in her ear.

When Marissa glided out onto the hard floor during the third song, Bella hated to admit it made her sad to give up her skating partner. But she did, watching the two of them gracefully roll away as other skaters zipped past her. She was losing momentum, afraid that if she moved her feet at all, she'd fall. She had closed her eyes for just an instant, sending a silent prayer to any deity listening, that she could manage to get to a wall before she stopped rolling.

It was in that same instant that his scent drifted to her, only a second before she felt his hot hand engulf her cool one. Hot and cold, just like his conduct. Her eyes fluttered open, taking in Embry's breathtaking features as the blue and red lights bounced off his copper skin. He only looked ahead, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he squeezed her hand.

Her smile reached her eyes for the first time that day as she looked around. The entire pack had shown up.

"Wolves on skates. Not something I ever imagined seeing in my life." She had muttered under her breath and the loud music, but Embry chuckled before picking up their speed to keep time with the tempo. When it became evident that Bella was struggling, he pulled her in front of him, flush to his chest.

"Keep your feet close together, and don't move them." His breath was hot against the side of her face, his body warm at her back, but she had goosebumps.

She did as he said, and his arms wrapped around her waist while he skated for them both.

_The time is right to put my arms around you  
You're feeling right; you wrap your arms around too_

She'd closed her eyes, relaxing in the embrace of her soul's match. She wasn't sure that they should be touching. She wasn't sure how he felt. She wasn't sure what would happen. But she was sure that there, in his arms, in that moment, she was home.

She didn't know how much time had passed when they slipped off the hard floor and onto thin carpet. But she felt the immediate loss of his heat, and her body sagged until he grabbed her hand from the bench he'd sat on. He pulled her onto his lap, and instinctually she'd curled into him. His face in her neck, she heard him take a deep and lingering breath.

"Bella…" her name tumbled out on a whispered breath, his lips brushing over her skin. "_Please."_

She wasn't sure what he was asking for. She shifted in his lap, taking his head in her hands. "What?"

He couldn't bring himself to say the words, to ask her for so much more, not knowing she would automatically be compelled to do what he requested. He tangled his fingers into her hair.

"I like you, Bella." He brought his gaze up to her eyes. "I liked you… _before_." He had more to admit to her, but her lips were on his. And her mouth tasted like honey. And she smelled like peaches.

Their kiss had been short-lived, once again interrupted by a pack of rowdy wolves. The pack had managed to get them kicked out of the rink, despite their connection to the owner's niece. But Bella found it impossible to do anything other than smile, even as she bit her cheek in an attempt to hide her glow.

She had been accepted. She was wanted.

They were hers.

* * *

Time was all there was left. She could feel fractions of seconds ticking away.

She was too stunned to do anything else, so she simply waited.

For her feet to move.

For her voice to find her mouth and call out.

For her short and too-boring life to flicker like an old movie reel before her eyes.

But for all her waiting, she was only granted the blatant glare of headlights, the pounding of her heart in her ears.

She had but one coherent thought.

_Hers. They were hers._

Impact.

* * *

**A/N: **Thoughts? You know the drill by now! Review for teasers! Review not for teasers! Just review it! Please?

**** An outtake for the roller rink scene here has been posted separately from this story (check it out on my profile page under "OUTTAKES: Cats & Dogs). Currently it's the only one there, but eventually I'm sure it will be the first among many. Listed as "If You Can't Get A Girl". It is Quil-tastic, darlings!**


	14. The Gathering Gloom

**A/N: **Hello to all! I apologize for the slight delay on this chapter's appearance here. This chapter was, like, the red-headed step child of chapters. Couple that with my newest addiction to a certain wolf-centric site, and well, y'all are lucky this went up now and not a month from now :)

My many thanks to all reviewers (as always). You guys keep me going. And a HUGE shout out to **Iamtwilightobsessed-MP **for pre-reading this chapter and also to **meliz875. **Both of these fabulous ladies were fantastically supportive and encouraging while I was struggling with my little bout of writer's block (and even after).

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**  
The Gathering Gloom

* * *

_On candy stripe legs, the Spiderman comes  
Softly through the shadow of the evening sun  
Stealing past the windows of the blissfully dead  
Looking for the victim shivering in bed  
Searching out fear in the gathering gloom  
And, suddenly!  
A movement in the corner of the room  
And there is nothing I can do  
When I realize with fright  
That the Spiderman is having me for dinner tonight_

_Quietly he laughs, and, shaking his head  
Creeps closer now  
Closer to the foot of the bed  
And softer than shadow and quicker than flies  
His arms are all around me, and his tongue in my eyes  
"Be still, be calm, be quiet now, my precious one  
Don't struggle like that or I will only love you more  
For it's much too late to get away or turn on the light.  
The Spiderman is having you for dinner tonight!"_

_And I feel like I'm being eaten by a thousand million shivering furry holes_  
_And I know that in the morning I will wake up in the shivering cold_

_And the Spiderman is always hungry_

* * *

**Embry **

* * *

_The low-hanging clouds dressed a starless black sky. He could only just make them out, though, peeking through the thick canopy of leaves that stretched beyond the world's atmosphere. _

_The forest felt instantly familiar, though he was sure he'd never visited it. _  
_A cool wind tickled at his short, dark hair before settling over his stoic face. It carried her fragrance to him, the scent triggering an upward pull at one corner of his lips. He turned, gaze rising from beneath heavy lids, anticipating her beauty, and feeling the ambiance around him shift in a way that only her presence could provoke._

_His smile faltered, and he saw only a deer in the space where she belonged.  
The animal looked troubled, panicked. Its eyes connected with his._

_A breath of fresh of fresh air._

_Bella's eyes.  
He choked.  
The deer ran._

_ He followed, dashing through the thick cathedral-like forest, feet bloodied as they ran over rough earth. He pursued the deer until he arrived at a stream, which, in its depths, grew a tree taller and wider and stranger than anything he'd ever seen.  
He cocked his head, tilting it as far back as it would go, to take in the enormity of the tree before him; curious as to how the deer he had been chasing had climbed the behemoth plant._

_It peered down from one of the lowest limbs._

Bella's soulful eyes, a dark sorrow spilling from their pits.

He took a step forward, sinking into murky water, followed by another, moving slowly onward through the muck at the stream's floor, until he reached the tree's trunk.

He noticed, then, an arrow in his hand. How it got there, he wasn't sure. But he recognized it. Hand-carved arrowhead, shaft covered with intricate designs.

With his other hand, his fingers tumbled over the rough bark of the massive tree. It was fiery hot.

"Find her." A voice, heavy and profound, resonated through his ears and through his mind.

* * *

Embry woke with a jolt.

It was the second night he had woken in such a way.  
It was the second night he had dreamt of the forest.  
The second night he'd heard that voice.  
The second night since she'd disappeared, seemingly into thin air.

The sound of her laughter haunted his every waking thought.

Her soulful eyes haunted his every dream.

* * *

Embry couldn't find it in himself to be at all surprised when Quil had gotten them all kicked out of the roller rink.

Quite a feat, Bella had claimed, since her best friend's aunt owned it. But public nudity was evidently a distinct crossing of the line. Whatever gratuities were afforded their small group for knowing the right people; that was not one of them.

The moment the pack had stepped foot out of the muggy building, Bella had burst into laughter. Outbursts of giggles bubbled up even as Quil, still nearly naked, scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder. Bella had squealed happily as he twirled her around, her little fists playfully pounding against his bare back.

It was a scene that had caused Embry to freeze in his tracks, his wolf's pleased hum filling his head.

Quil and Bella were both cackling, their voices bouncing off the building's walls, slamming back into Embry and soaking into his skin, surging warm and glowing through his veins, coursing through every last particle, every little speck of him. And when her head shot up from over Quil's shoulder to look at Embry, strands of dark hair whipping violently around her head, cheeks pink, lips turned up, and eyes filled with laughing tears, his knees had almost buckled beneath him.

The pack had gathered around, his brothers and his sister smiling and laughing, looking younger than any of them had in months. Their scents mingled together, whirling around him, and filling him with something new and vaguely frightening. He had gone breathless at the fullness of his heart.

He'd never felt anything like it.

His friends. His pack. His family.

He watched from a place against the building's brick wall as his brothers passed Bella's little body around, playfully lugging her around like a rag doll. They needed her and loved her almost as instantly and intensely and unconditionally as Embry himself. Even Leah, who had reprimanded the others for behaving like Neanderthals, had draped her arm over Bella's shoulder; it was more conspicuous than her pack brothers' displays of affection. But Embry recognized their need to receive, and to touch their true alpha's mate.

Wolves, by nature, are very physical. And the La Push pack was no exception.

They had separated shortly after, the pack returning to the Thornton building, and Bella returning to roller rink to face the wrath of Marissa's aunt at her friend's side.

He hadn't wanted to let her out of his sight again. If he was being totally honest, the idea of walking away from the small girl completely shattered his heart. But she had insisted.

She had closed the distance between the two of them gradually, tentatively, promising to keep the door between their rooms open when she returned. And then, with abrupt conviction, she was on tiptoe, arms around his neck, and lips at his pulse.

She was gone before he could get his arms around her. And he could do nothing to suppress the smile that was quickly and widely spreading across his face.

He'd followed behind his pack that night, Quil at his side. The two friends had smiled together as they watched Leah and Jacob draw ever closer to one another until their arms bumped repeatedly and their fingers were in a continuous graze.

He had fallen into a fitful sleep that night.

And the nightmares began somewhere between sleeping and waking, inside that ephemeral moment of being in two places, two people, at once.

He could see his surroundings, the foot of the iron bed where the blankets were balled up, the dresser, the bathroom door. It all appeared as it had when he had tumbled heavily into the bed.

But there was… _something _decidedly _different. _

_Darker._

_Quieter._

_Sinister._

_Wrong._

The shadows.

They were wrong, lying not-quite-right against the floor and the walls.

The air in the room felt hostile and heavy.

A methodical and subtle change in the room, creeping up from dark corners, tickled at Embry's skin. He could feel it, ominous and prowling. He was not alone.

_A presence._

He flinched slightly, the urge to phase prickling over his body as every hair rose at the deep and dreadful awareness of a dark vastness creeping closer to the bed from every point in the room, hovering over him and breathing him in.

It felt like the walls were closing in on him.

He tried to rise from the bed, but couldn't make his limbs move. He was frozen, paralyzed.

Whatever the hell was in that room, whatever dark _thing_ was lurking in the shadows, just beyond the reaches of his sight, it was hungry and it was amused. He could _feel_ it.

Even in the absence of substantial, tangible evidence, he could feel the influence of it bearing down on him. No sound. No movement. No difference in temperature, like he'd seen in innumerable horror movies.

_Silence._

_Stillness._

_Darkness._

_Emptiness._

It threatened to swallow him, coming ever closer, unseen and grinning wickedly. But instead it just lurked, calm and dark and heavy, watching him. Waiting.

And then, just as suddenly as it had emerged; it faded away, slipping into the walls and under the door.

Embry was no longer rigid in the bed.

Despite his pounding heart and his every instinct to flee from the room, his body relaxed and sleep once again consumed him.

For the first time, he was in that towering forest, looking at Bella's eyes on a doe's blank face, forever chasing after her.

And that voice.

When the morning came, he had written it all off as a hellish nightmare. Sleep paralysis. Night terrors. Bad dreams.

But the room still felt too heavy, too wrong.

And the door between his room and Bella's was shut.

He couldn't shake the feeling, rolling in the pit of his stomach, that something was terribly, profoundly wrong.

That feeling was only confirmed moments later when Quil, never one for life lessons, barged through Embry's door unannounced.

His mouth open, posed to say something that Quil undoubtedly thought was brilliant, but no sound came. He paused, mouth still agape, eyebrows scrunched as he scratched his head with one finger and glanced around the room.

When his mouth closed, it went into a tight, thin line. It was a look Embry recognized. Quil was troubled.

But then, so was Embry.

The two wolves stood, each silently looking to the other, moments passing between them before Quil spun in a circle.

"Good goddamn, dude," he broke the silence. "What the fuck is wrong with your room?"

The question threw Embry a bit. Even if he had been wondering the same thing.

He had felt uneasy in the room since he'd jerked awake from the first dream of the forest.

It was nothing like the suffocating vacuum of the previous night, but a lingering void had slinked against the back of his neck as he had gotten dressed and packed his things for their return to La Push.

Embry had remained silent, chewing the inside of his cheek raw and raking his fingers harshly over his scalp in an attempt to stave off the growing agitation in his bones. Something was off. He knew it.

His gaze landed on the door to Bella's room again, his attention drawn by a jiggling sound. The handle was turning and for a moment he allowed himself to feel the briefest flurry of relief. A place deep within him knew better though, knew it wasn't his pretty little pale girl on the other side of the door.

"Bella?" The soft feminine voice from the other side of the door squeaked through a small opening, Marissa's face peering through the crack with brows laced together.

Her eyes met Embry's first, and then shined a little brighter when they found Quil. But it was short-lived, her concern for Bella quickly resurfacing over her features.

"Hey, guys," she offered a small, polite smile. "Have you seen Bella? Her mom's been trying to reach her." She stepped into the room, her eyes going wide as a visible tremor wracked her petite frame.

"It's fucked up in here, right Riss?" Quil stepped to her side, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. She relaxed in his grip, giving a curt, nervous nod.

"Bella hasn't been here." Embry mumbled, his shoulders rising and falling with a beaten sigh. Things were feeling less and less right.

He didn't miss the wrinkling of the small redhead's brows, nor the hitch of her breath, nor the increase in the pace of her heart.

The scent of fear.

Embry's wolf roused from within. His mate's scent drifted in from the other room, but it was hours old. She hadn't been in her room at all during the night.

Embry took a step closer to Marissa. Quil's grip around her shoulder tightened attentively.

"You will tell me what you know." Embry's voice was raw and demanding. The wolf had surfaced.

Embry had barely been able to keep the wolf at bay, his teeth grinding under the pressure of his clenched jaw as Marissa explained. He did not want to be in that room anymore. He did not want to hear her voice. And a part of him simply did not want her to confirm the foreboding detail he felt coming.

Bella had gone back into the building, grabbing a bucket of cleaning supplies and a pair of rubber gloves, all set to help Marissa clean the bathrooms and the rink floor; their penance to the girl's aunt for Quil's conduct. But Marissa was having no part of that, demanding that Bella go back to the Thornton Building and rest; after all, she'd said, Bella was still recuperating from the previous night's concussion. She called Bella a cab.

Bella had tried to persuade Marissa to change her mind and let her help, only disappearing outside to wait for her ride when Marissa had run into the women's bathroom with arms piled full of cleaning products and locked Bella out.

Marissa's voice had been unsteady as she spoke, tears pooling in her green eyes. Embry stepped around them, moving to the hallway, as Quil pulled her into his chest and stroked his fingers through her red hair. He knew Bella's disappearance wasn't the girl's fault, and yet Embry couldn't bring himself to try to console her.

The air in the hall had been warm and welcoming, a radical difference from the air in the room where Quil stood, soothing the sniffling girl. Embry could hear her soft whimpers as he paced down the hall. Of all the uncertainties he was feeling at that moment, the least daunting was where his feet were carrying him.

But he still felt a prickle of nervous surprise when he found himself standing outside of Billy Black's room, hand already raised to knock on the door. The only thing that had pulled him from his panicked thoughts of Bella and prevented him from instinctually rapping on that door was the voice that came from within.

"Now, Charlie, if Bella said she was camping with Leah and Emily, I'm sure she's just fine. Leah knows her way 'round these woods, good as Jake."

_Well, shit._

Caught up in the tidal wave of _big things_ that had threatened to drown Embry completely, Charlie Swan hadn't even been so much as a glimmer in his thoughts.

"Listen here, old man, your angelic Bella is a teenage girl. You're a cop – you tell me; since when are teenagers renowned for being sensible and responsible?" Billy's voice was confident, but Embry had hung on the man's every word for most of his life. He could hear the underlying hint of regret for betraying his best friend with lies and secrets.

Embry struggled to push back the disheartening thoughts that sprang to the surface.

_Had Billy felt regret for keeping _him_ a secret?_

_Had he felt regret for keeping the secret from him?_

His hand was still raised at Billy's door as the pack began to trickle into the corridor. It was time to meet the Shifters Council. But as their concerned faces turned, raking over his position outside Billy's door, his posture, his shaking hands, his tense shoulders; they had stopped dead in their tracks, only the sound of Marissa's sniffles filling the space.

Embry was looking at Sam, who was watching as Jake made his way to his brother's side.

"The rest of you head up." Sam didn't bother turning his head to look at the pack; instead taking his own steps to the two sons whose father had unleashed unparalleled anguish upon them through mere silence.

A lifetime of it.

Embry wilted as his brother and his alpha each flung a heavy arm around him, walking him down the hall while he swallowed down the rising bile in his throat. They had just made it into Sam's room before his knees gave out and he dropped onto the hard floor.

He felt like he was choking.

"Shit." From his side, Sam's single muttered word barely made it through the heavy pounding in his ears.

Over his head Jacob and Sam exchanged a worry glance. Jacob crouched at Embry's side, his big hand clapping over the space between his brother's shoulder blades.

"Em, man," his voice was soft, an attempt to soothe. "What's goin' on?"

But when the only response from Embry was a choked wheezing sound, something clicked in Sam.

_Instinct. _

_Nature._

Sam moved to squat in front of Embry. He clutched the back of the younger wolf's neck, gently pulling Embry's face into his shoulder.

Embry's breathing slowly evened out, each exhaled breath being absorbed by the fabric of Sam's shirt. Each short inhaled breath, filled with the scent of pack.

_Family._

When he was able to, he spoke. Two simple, short, merciless words that broke his whole fucking world.

"She's gone."

It had taken everything in Sam to rein in Embry. The eldest Black son had grown strong, more powerful than any other member of the pack, including Sam himself. If he was brutally honest, Sam truly couldn't imagine how the younger wolf was maintaining the few shreds of self-control and sanity that he was. Had Emily gone missing, Sam was certain the wolf would have taken over, certain he'd be unable to phase back, regardless of command.

Embry had scarcely kept his hold on the wolf during their meeting with the Shifters Council. The few times he'd bothered to glance up to them, their expressions confirmed that they had taken notice of it. He could sense eyes on him throughout the entire meeting, which had actually been quite short.

There was a brief moment of chaos among the council members when they learned of Bella's disappearance. The continued pounding in his ears and his frantic, buzzing mind left little to no room for concentrating on the meeting. But, when they had been dismissed, he felt rather certain that they had not even asked about Bella's last known whereabouts; a disregard that made him bristle.

Leah and Quil had accompanied him to the roller rink, where they found Marissa sitting on the ground against the building.

"I know it's not exactly rational," she'd said, pulling at a loose string on her dress. "But I just thought that maybe, if something happened, she might come back here."

Quil had gone to sit beside her, eying Embry until he acknowledged her gesture. But Embry was scared. And Embry was worried. And Embry was a million different things, but none of them were anything having to do with manners. Still, he appreciated that she would come here to wait for Bella. He gave her a terse nod of his head.

The parking lot of the roller rink was empty and littered with flyers and paper cups. It smelled mostly of the sweat and purchased fragrances of the previous night's crowd.

But two odors stuck out from the rest.

Two odors had Embry's wolf clawing at the surface.

Two odors had his heart pounding and panicking and breaking.

"Fuck," Leah balled her hands into nervous fists. "Is that –"

Embry's jaw tensed as he nodded, eyes turning impossibly dark and nostrils flared.

Bella's blood.

And the putrid, decaying stench of vampire.

His body vibrated with rage and fright, his self-control bending beneath the shattering weight of the wolf's demand to phase. To find their mate. To slaughter anything that might harm a single hair on her.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Embry realized he recognized the vampire's stench. But the thought was barely a buzz in the midst of that thundering ever-present drum.

The shrill ringing of Quil's cell phone startled them. Sam's voice, nervous and concerned, reached the other two wolves' ears easily. Panic rippled through them. Emily had called him.

There was a vampire in La Push.

In Sam's yard.

The pieces fell together.

And the thin thread by which Embry had been so barely hanging snapped.

* * *

**A/N: **

As always, reviewers are LOVED LOVED LOVED. Tell me your thoughts!


	15. Thirst

**A/N: **Welcome, welcome, new readers! Thank you all, new readers and old, for giving this little story a chance. Every new follow, favorite, and review means the world to me :)

An enormously inadequate, but very sincere thank you to **Iamtwilightobsessed-MP** and **meliz875** for their support, encouragement, and for sending so many of you my way :) On top of all that, I owe them both thanks for pre-reading this chapter. 3

* * *

**Suggested** **Listening:  
**Okkervil River - For Real  
My Bloody Valentine - Sometimes  
Parenthetical Girls - The Weight She Fell Under

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen  
**Thirst

* * *

**Edward Cullen**

She was, in a word, intriguing.

It had been so dreadfully, excruciatingly long since he'd been intrigued by anything at all. Longer, still, since he'd been intrigued by _anyone._

He'd been grateful at first those many years ago, once the insatiable hunger had ebbed, to have been given his _gift. _Always one who craved knowledge and enlightenment, he had believed his new ability would give him inexhaustible access to significant information, deep thoughts, poetry, art, music that no other person in the world may have ever known.

He knew now how foolish he'd been to ever consider this curse a _gift._

Humans, as it turned out, were inherently shallow, dull creatures, wrapped up inside themselves and their uninteresting lives.

The humdrum monotony of everyday existence screamed at him ceaselessly. It bellowed from streets and libraries, museums and concert halls, churches and cemeteries. The voices were everywhere, inescapable.

But then there was her.

It was her scent, carried to him on the breeze of a typically overcast Forks day, which caught his attention. It swirled around him, playing through his nostrils, tickling his tongue, and halting his steps.

Something new to the small town. Something sweet. Floral. Spicy.

_Irresistible._

_Delectable._

Never in his many years as a vampire had he smelled anything so unadulterated, so enticing.

The crippling affliction of her fragrance had blackened his eyes and crumpled the metal of his car beneath his clenching stone hands.

He couldn't help but watch her through the diner's dingy window as she ate her meal, retaining his spot across the street. But the more he watched from a distance, the more curious he had become, letting his hard stare settle on her.

She appeared quite normal.

Not unattractive. But not remarkable.

The appeal of physical beauty had long ago been lost on him. Its occurrence seemed to spawn a particularly desperate ugliness of the mind. Having not yet heard her mind he couldn't be certain, but he doubted the young, heavenly smelling girl had ever had a vain thought.

She felt awkward being the center of attention. As much was made obvious by the way she'd gradually slumped lower and lower into her seat as her dining companion's place in the community assured persistent stares and greetings from his public.

The pale, bronze-haired boy observed her ruthlessly until his trance had been pierced by the gallingly loud thoughts of two young Quileute boys. Their thoughts came to him in flashes of images more than words. To the aged vampire, it seemed a symptom of mindlessness.

From one mind, images of two children playing in the mud and rain, smearing mud over each other's faces in order to make themselves the same color.

From the other wolf's mind, unpleasant pink shoes and bland brown eyes.

_Preposterous wolves. _

His porcelain face had contorted, lips curling into a scowl, before he got into his freshly dented car and headed in the direction opposite of that from which the wolves were approaching. He knew where he would eventually find the small, unremarkable, fragrant young girl.

As he'd suspected, she had returned to Chief Swan's house with him. From his place in the woods, he could easily hear Charlie's mind. The small town cop was a nervous wreck over the reality of his teenage daughter living under his roof.

It was curious, he determined, that he was unable to hear _her_ mind. The thought was fleeting though, as words passed between the father and daughter.

When she left the house to go for a walk, he heard Charlie Swan say a silent prayer of thanks. He had no idea what to do with a teenage girl.

He had lingered a moment longer, eavesdropping in amusement on Charlie's internal debate as to whether or not he should offer to join Bella on her walk. But the girl had already disappeared into the thick woods on the other side of the little house when Charlie had opened the door to call after her.

It really shouldn't have been difficult to track her.

He was a _vampire_, after all. And she was but a mere human.

Humans were careless, generally imprudent creatures.

He had effortlessly followed her scent trail quite a ways into the woods. Far enough, in fact, that he found himself feeling surprisingly impressed with the young human girl's speed and navigation. Her trail was a series of straight lines, which to him indicated an intended destination. It was a detail he found rather curious, as he had believed she was new to the area.

It mattered not though, as it turned out. Several miles into the forest, her scent faded. Or changed. He couldn't decide which occurrence had taken place, and both scenarios seemed improbable.

He had back-tracked and retraced the trail several times over, always winding up at the same spot, before realization swept over him.

It couldn't be though.

_Could it?_

His family had, of course, been entirely aware of the existence of the other mythics long before happening upon the Quileute wolf pack of generations past. They had even briefly considered sharing such information with the oblivious pack and their tribe. But the Quileute tribe had already had its fair share of vampire-inflicted bloodshed. And letting them in on the mass of violence their respective kinds had inflicted upon the other would have, in all likelihood, caused quite the uproar among the volatile wolves.

No matter how peaceful the Cullen family may have been, Shifters – wolves in particular – seemed incapable of seeing past _what_ they were to discover _who_ they had become. They were lucky to have been able to convince the natives to create a treaty with them, so that each of their kinds could live in relative peace amongst one another with strict laws set in place.

The current pack, the Cullens had surmised, had gained little more empathy than the pack before them.

It was nearing midnight when he'd made it to the treaty line, having followed a trail that smelled less and less like the sumptuous fragrance of the plain-looking girl, and more and more like one of the La Push pack.

And pack was what he encountered.

The young Quileute boy's mind was filled to the very brim with images of the sweet smelling girl. The pain the boy was in was palpable; slivers diced into his own unbeating heart on the behalf of the love-struck native who appeared to think the small girl was anything but unremarkable.

_Bella Swan._

_The Alpha's mate._

He retreated eagerly, happy to escape the pain rolling from the boy's thoughts. He returned to his quiet, clean home, welcomed with uncomfortable embraces and words of warmth from his make-shift family.

He spoke nothing of the girl to his family. And no one asked. Even Alice, normally as preoccupied with his activities as he was, seemed oblivious. So when an acquaintance of Carlisle's had phoned to inform him that the La Push pack were in Seattle for orientation with the Council, he happily offered to keep an eye on the situation.

* * *

He stood on the roof of the brick building, watching the scene play out before his eyes. Cocking his head to one side, he felt a glimmer of self-disappointment for wondering what was going through her mind as she stared into the headlights of the quickly approaching truck.

Time distorted, everything moving in slow motion.

He waited.

For Bella to move. Or scream. For the truck to brake. The screech of tires coming to a sudden halt.

But none of that happened.

_How terribly odd._

She stood motionless in place; eyes vacant and fixed on the headlights of the truck which, instead of braking or swerving, only sped up. Aimed itself straight for her.

He briefly considered his options.

On one hand, in his many years on the earth, he'd never once witnessed someone being struck by a vehicle. It was, of course, not on his list of things to see, but he simply could not deny the fact that it _would _be interesting.

On the other hand, despite her being a Shifter, there was something about the girl that he found intrinsically fascinating.

_A quiet mystery._

It would be a shame to lose the one and only mysterious creature he'd happened upon since his human years had ended.

And her scent.

Perhaps it was reason enough to allow the truck to run her down. End the ever-haunting temptation, the threat she was to his willpower.

But he realized he'd never be able to prove the strength of his resolve if the temptation no longer existed.

He made his choice. And he jumped.

In that split second, he felt more alive, more _human_ than he ever had.

Real fear gripped him.

Real thrill.

For a moment he was certain he could hear the pounding of his heart. An echo of what once was, booming and thudding in his ears; drowning out every other sound.

_Her_ heart.

He landed several feet away, a greater distance from her than was the speeding truck. But he was faster. He lunged toward the sweet-smelling body, slamming against it at an incalculable speed.

They flew.

His head was dizzy with the aroma of flowers as their eyes met just before they collided back to the unforgiving ground. Her gaze broke, but his did not, as her face contorted when her tiny frame smacked into the pavement, cushioning his landing.

He smelled it almost the very instant the skin had broken.

_Blood._

Fresh.

Warm.

_Mouthwatering._

_Irresistible._

His mouth filled with hungry venom as her body skidded to a halt below him. A strangled noise came from her throat as his fingers curled around it.

The predator, the bloodthirsty demon, the _vampire. _

He so desperately sought out her mind's voice. He longed to hear her thoughts as his teeth sank into the warmth of her soft flesh. The thought was equal parts terrifying and electrifying to him.

A cracking sound came from beneath them as her skull slapped against the hard ground. Her eyes flew open momentarily, a groan passing through her lips before her lashes fluttered closed once again.

His grip loosened.

He couldn't stop the touch of a smile that snuck over his stone lips. His black eyes had been the last thing she had seen, and that small fact sparked a flame deep within. Something that had he'd not felt in half a century. Something almost foreign to him.

Satisfaction.

From somewhere in the distance behind them, he heard the slamming of a car door. Heavy footfalls on wet pavement approached from across the street, a whispered curse sent into the air like a dagger. Something in the air changed, a static pop from behind him.

Something was not right.

He scooped up the small feminine body from beneath him. And he ran, never looking back.

He'd carried her, the miles between Seattle and Forks melting away in a blur, his eyes stealing glimpses of the colorless face cradled in the crook of his hard arm. Her lips had parted and her thick hair had spilled over his arm. The warmth from her still-beating heart, her still-flowing blood, seeped from her and into every point where her body met his.

_How wrong he had been._

_There was nothing unremarkable about her._

She'd had to have a few bones reset. And, despite her rapid healing abilities, the deep gashes she'd received from the brutal, sliding impact against the pavement needed suturing.

Carlisle had treated her in his office, his eyes filled with worry, his mind filled with questions. Edward did the best he could to answer them, hearing the unspoken disappointment in Carlisle's mind with nearly every response he supplied.

"You behaved foolishly," the older vampire had looked at Edward pointedly, lips pressed into a tight line. "You know you are a far greater danger to this girl – this Shifter – than any vehicle."

Edward could only nod. A part of him had screamed as much to him the moment his body had collided with hers.

"However," Carlisle washed away Bella's blood from his hands, shaking the water from them before clamping one around Edward's shoulder. "I know your intentions were in the right place."

Edward was thankful that Carlisle was unable to read minds.

He'd carried her to the room across the hall from his own. It was the only room that contained a sofa with a pullout bed.

On that bed now rested the singular Shifter to have ever entered the Cullen house. Her bruises and cuts were fading, her swelling going down. The scent of blood no longer lingered. She had been bathed and dressed by Esme. The fine black silk gown she wore contrasted elegantly against her pale skin.

He had been reading in his room when, from across the hall, he heard her eyelashes flutter. She was awake. He listened to her blinking eyes, the subtle increase in the beating of her heart, the curling of her slender fingers into the satin sheets Esme had purchased for her, the shifting of her hair against the pillow as she took in unfamiliar surroundings.

But from her mind, he heard only silence.

Beautiful, perfect silence.

He made up his mind, then, just as her voice pierced the thick silence of the large house.

"…mmmbryyy…"

* * *

**A/N: **Whoa. Thoughts, anyone?


	16. To Reach You

**Suggested Listening:  
**Anathallo - Hanasakajijii (One: The Angry Neighbor)  
Man Man - Feathers  
Beach House - Myth

**A/N: **My many, many thanks to **Iamtwilightobsessed-MP** and **Brain in the Gutter** for pre-reading/doing a little beta work on this chapter. Also, a big wolfy thank you to **dragonfly76** who took the time to write a review for C&D, which should be featured over at **You Write What?!** at some point :) This fantastic lady has also sent oodles of you readers my way.

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen**  
To Reach You

_If you build yourself a myth  
Know just what to give  
What comes after this  
Momentary bliss  
Consequence of what you do to me  
_

* * *

_Home. _

_She followed the scent of it through her forest, tall trees urging her on with rustling leaves. _

_The scents of home, growing ever stronger as she followed through brambles and thickets the likes of which she'd never seen, led her to him._

_The beautiful barefooted boy with perfect skin. _

_His back was to her, so she took the opportunity to let her eyes play over his body, committing each dip, each ripple of sinuous muscle, each inch of skin to memory. _

_She wanted to go to him. But his head was turning and he was looking at her. And his bottomless eyes fixed on her, froze her in place. Pierced right through her. Left her open and vulnerable and bleeding before him. _

_It was a feeling much too beautiful to be meant for her, she knew. _

_So she ran again, this time away from home, crushing daisies beneath her feet and bounding over fallen limbs as she went; unaware of where she was going, but allowing instinct to guide her. Tears fell from her cheeks, pearls of amber that landed upon the soft mossy ground._

_She ran until she reached the tree, winding and massive, its limbs clawing at the sky. She trudged through the muddy water surrounding the tree, running fingers over rough bark when she reached the thick trunk. She climbed high and higher, spying from a tall branch as the pretty boy with silk black hair and smoldering eyes found her and then vanished. _

_And the forest went dark._

_And the monsters came out, taking shape through shadow and silence. They blinded her with glowing glares and clawed at her with icicle fingers._

_Her body would not move, fear squeezing her heart. _

_"Isabella," the voice of Oren shook the great tree. "Time runs short. Wake up."_

* * *

She was slow waking, and slower still in prying her sticky, sleep-crusted eyelids apart. Her surroundings were fuzzy, her head fuzzier.

Beneath her curling fingers, she felt something cool, something smooth, something silky.

_Embry._

A cunning smile played across her lips as she angled her head down, wanting nothing more than for her vision to right itself so that she might be allowed a glimpse of her slumbering mate as she ran her fingers through his dark locks.

But even with her vision still unclear and every object in the room seeming to blend and blur together, it was plain for her to see as her eyes fixed to the spot where her hand rested, that the boy with the soft hair was not there.

_No matter how much he _should_ be._

Still, she smiled, the lazy smile of happy drunk.

Because she was _able_ to compare his hair to the silky material that was still slipped between her heavy feeling fingers. Because she _knew_ the comparison was spot-on. Because she had _felt_ that hair between her fingers, had gotten _tangled_ in it, had _tugged_ on it. _She knew_.

She imagined, still lazily smiling and running fingers over unfamiliar silky satin fabric, that _knowing_ what Embry's hair felt like was the sweetest knowledge she'd ever gained in her life. And, as nice as the material was beneath her hand, she really just wanted to run her fingers through that hair again.

A thought vaguely occurred to her, its muted murmur in her head widening her grin.

_Perhaps he was there – wherever there was – after all. _

She should have been bothered by her unfamiliar surroundings. She should have been bothered by the heaviness in her fingers, the feeling that her head was stuffed with cotton balls, the rancid smell of the room she was in. But those things had barely registered with her.

She wanted Embry.

She called to him, her voice weak and small even in the harsh silence, her tongue heavy, her throat dry, her single word slurred and scratchy.

She blinked hard, again trying to will away the blurriness. Upon reopening them, she was startled to find that a muddled face had replaced the blurry room. Her breath caught in her throat, a slight whimper escaping her lips as the distinct stench finally burned at her nostrils and all down her throat. Her reaction seemed to prompt a movement, and the face retreated just as suddenly as it had appeared, though its features remained indistinct. She was, however, certain she would not recognize it even if it were clear.

"Uh-um… h-hello…?" She stammered, beginning to feel a bit nervous and unsure of so much.

_What was she doing in the company of a vampire?_

_Why were her limbs so heavy?_

She struggled, trying to bring her hand to her eyes to rub away the spider webs of her distorted vision. But even when she managed to lift the weighty limb, a sharp pinch in her hand stilled her motion.

She blinked; confused by what she thought must be a needle in the top of her hand. Her eyes vaguely made out the tube that lead from her hand to blurred rectangle, which dangled from a pole beside her.

_What the –_

"Hello, Isabella." The unfamiliar voice was quiet, melodic, velvety, and utterly chilling. It made her skin crawl, the hairs on her arms and her neck all standing on end. The figure from which it came was perched in the corner of the room, head cocked.

He remained motionless. He didn't want to cause her distress, if for no other reason, than simply because it caused her heart to beat faster and harder and her scent to become sweeter and more tempting.

It really didn't work.

His stillness was off-putting. She had even started to doubt herself, questioning if she'd heard a voice at all.

_Maybe the colorless, faceless thing in the corner was a statue._

Except, she could feel his eyes on her. Which meant he was real, and he was there. And he knew her name.

"Where…" she gestured to the room with her hand, feeling the pinch of the needle a little too late and wincing. "Um… where am I?"

Her voice surprised him a little, reminding him of his initial reaction to her.

_Unremarkable._

He could no longer think such a thing about the little Shifter after what he'd been through with her, the amount of restraint he'd clutched onto tightly for her. Somewhere deep within him, as he had carried her from Seattle to Forks, she had unknowingly lit some sort of spark.

He had, however, hoped for her first words to him to be something a bit more eloquent. And her voice, if he was honest, was a bit grating in its pitch and it sounded rough and unpleasant.

Shifters, unlike vampires, retained most of their human-like qualities. It was something he had come to envy.

_But perhaps not this particular aspect. _

He'd grown accustomed to the pitch-perfect, soothing voices of his family, and did his best to block out the sounds of the humans by which he found himself surrounded daily.

Silence filled the room again, settling into her bones and sending the first ripple of an impending phase down her spine. She bit it back, and was relieved when that physical reaction seemed to have cleared her vision.

Her eyes focused on him first.

Messy reddish-brown hair. Flawless skin, paler than even her own. Short in comparison to the hulking wolves by which she'd been surrounded. Scrawny in comparison as well. Too-perfect clothing. Perfectly chiseled face with high cheekbones, which sat beneath sunken purple skin and heavy black eyes.

Bella stiffened under his glare, flesh prickling again. She scanned the stark room for an escape route, but was reminded of the weight of her limbs when she tried to prop herself up against satin-covered pillows. Her legs felt like dead weight, her arms like rubber.

_There would be no escaping._

She flailed momentarily, the feat only causing her to slip further down onto the mattress, and she realized the clothes she wore were not her own. The silk of the revealing black gown she was in slipped and slid against the satin sheets, shifting on her body to reveal more of her skin.

She went still, ultimately deciding that her movements were only worsening her trapped state. Her eyes met the vampires again, amusement flitting over his upturned lips.

_Just perfect. This one must like to play with his food._

She smirked unintentionally, drawing his attention to her lips. Edward found himself thoroughly perplexed by her, desiring to both to drain her and to court her.

_His family would never approve of either of those, of course._

He studied her, making no attempt to hide it. The more he looked at her, the more he appreciated what he saw and what he did not hear. She had gone still, her stare fixed on him. She looked frightened.

_Just like she had when she was caught in the headlights several hours earlier._

She didn't like the silky sheets. She didn't like the silky pajamas. She didn't like the stark color of the room. She didn't like the modern furniture. She didn't like feeling like her head was full of cotton. She didn't like being trapped. She didn't like the stench of vampire.

But more than any of those things, she simply did not like his eyes on her. She couldn't quite put her finger on what it was about him that made her prickle deep into her bones, but she had learned to trust such instincts. And she was deeply bothered by him.

It wasn't simply the fact that he was a vampire and she a shifter. She had seen the look of bloodlust before. And she could see it now, in this vampire's eyes. But it wasn't what bothered her most. There was something else there, some other… emotion in his eyes.

A purposeful growl filled the quiet.

_The one and only warning she would give him._

A sound from outside the room broke their eye contact as they both looked toward the empty doorway.

Someone had returned to the house sooner than Edward had anticipated. He had expected his family to be gone for several hours.

_This would critically hinder his plan._

He hadn't been sure if dazzling worked on Shifters, but he had been willing to try if it meant he would be able to keep Bella for himself.

He recalled the images in the wolf's mind from the woods.

_Bella in the arms of their future alpha. It was a hideous image_ _at the time, and nothing less than unbearable now._

Edward could hear Carlisle's mind the moment the older vampire had gotten up the steps.

The meeting with the wolves had been unpleasant, but they had come to agreeable terms after Carlisle's exaggerated reiteration of Edward's heroic actions to save Bella. Carlisle intended to tell the same story to the Council.

From Carlisle's mind, he could see the anxiety and worry on the faces of the wolves. The horror from the idea of her presence in the home of a coven of vampires.

But they had, to a certain degree, trusted Carlisle. He was generations older than the pack, and had gained the trust of their ancestors. The current alpha conspired with Carlisle; the two men coming up with a story to tell Bella's father.

He let his shoulders drop slightly, exhaled unnecessarily, and backed out of the room; eyes trained on Bella until he rounded the corner. Her relief was only momentary, as his absence was quickly filled by the presence of a different vampire.

Carlisle's presence was vastly different, oddly comforting even. His face was gentle, his voice sincere as he apologized for _Edward's_ behavior. He explained it all to her – being blatantly honest about everything from Edward's attraction to the scent of her blood to the elaborate exaggeration he'd told the wolves. He had explained the extent of her injuries, the lengths he'd gone to so that her bones would mend properly. He'd explained the high dosage of morphine he'd given her as well as the rather strong sedative to ensure she didn't phase and kill them all. He had explained that his wife had redressed her, and that they had needed to burn her blood-soaked clothes as having them in the house was proving to be trying for their family. He apologized profusely for all of it. And he'd meant it. She could tell.

The young shifter surprised the ancient vampire with her understanding. He was unaware, of course, of her lifetime of loneliness. But now that Bella had gained a family, she couldn't find it in her to blame Carlisle for trying to protect his own. She agreed that she wouldn't go out of her way to reveal the truth of the matter to the wolves or to the council.

But she also would not go out of her way to hide it or lie.

Carlisle could not help but feel tremendous respect for the girl. When he'd finished his exam, he had deemed her healthy enough to return home. She understood what he meant instantly.

Bella left without so much as a goodbye, uncomfortably passing _Edward_ and another unknown male vampire in the hallway just outside of the room she'd been in, and hobbling as quickly as she could down the stairs of the cold, silent house. She shook her head as she stepped outside the house, still feeling an odd sense of calm combined with the fuzziness from the sedatives she'd been given. With one last look back into the house, Bella caught Edward's glaring black eyes from the top of the steps. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she should have felt... _anything_ other than calm. But it just wasn't happening.

_She'd deal with him another day. _

Bella let instinct guide her home.

Not to Charlie Swan's house in Forks, no.

But instead to a small brown house in La Push. Bella had never seen the house, but the pull to _home_ – to _him _– had brought her here. She was nearly to the small stoop when her attention was drawn to the side of the house, from where the sound of grass crunching beneath feet could be heard. When she craned her neck and peered around the corner, her breath was taken away by the sight before her.

The hulking, bulking, dark mass of muscle came from the woods, zipping his cut-off shorts as he approached her. His grin was infectious, and Bella's own mouth mirrored his as he quickened his pace and broke into a sprint. She didn't hesitate when he bounded to her, opening her arms and hopping right into his waiting ones. He squeezed her tight enough to steal her breath all over again.

"Thank the baby Jesus; Yoda has returned!" Quil spun her in a circle, not at all hiding the fact that he was burying his nose in her hair, her neck, her shoulder. Checking her for injuries, for harm. She returned the sentiment, breathing deeply the scent of pack. _Family._

"Missed you too, Quil." She admitted on an exhaled lungful of him.

"No offense, girl, but…" he set her back on solid ground, resting his meaty hands on her shoulders. "You reek."

He was still grinning, but she frowned a little.

"I _know_." Her nose had become somewhat accustomed to the foul stench, her nostrils burning far less with each intake of breath. It was troubling, but she hadn't been willing to give up this opportunity to return to Charlie's house for a shower and a change of clothes. She was certain her father would have been less than pleased with her disappearing act. And she wasn't sure if she'd be allowed to leave the house for the rest of the summer, let alone travel to La Push.

_She'd have to learn the art of sneaking out._

She tugged at the material of the long, now slightly torn gown that did not belong to her.

_A wolf in vampire's clothing._

"He's not here, ya know." Quil's hands slipped off her shoulders, the cool night air harshly prickling over the heated skin. "Kinda lost it."

She sighed, eyes fixing on Quil's. "Will you – c-can you… take me to him? I… I can't phase yet. And…" Her eyes fell to aching, battered bare feet.

Quil's eyes followed her, taking in for the first time that they were bruised and bloodied. A low, long whistle blew from his lips.

"Shit, Bella, what the hell were you thinkin'?" He crouched, his hand closing around her ankle and lifting her foot for a closer look. She had several deep cuts and splinters, she knew. "For shit's sake, woman..." he shook his head reproachfully. "C'mon, let's get these cleaned up."

She shook her head, ready to protest. She just wanted to see Embry. _Needed_ to. Panic began to clutch at her heart. The imprint was demanding.

He could hear her heartbeat quicken, smell the panic, see the fear.

"S'okay, Bella, I'll take you to him just as soon as we get these puppies cleaned up. Em'll have a shit fit if he sees your feet all bloody like this." He surprised her then, sweeping her off the ground and into his arms, carrying her into Tiffany Call's darkened house. "How'd you know to come here anyway? Did Embry tell you where he lived?"

Bella glanced around the dark space, taking in Embry's school pictures on the wall and framed childhood works of art. The house smelled like pears and rosemary and Embry. She couldn't stop herself smiling a little as she shook her head to Quil's question.

"No. It's, um… the imprint. It pulled me here." She was mumbling more than anything, too preoccupied with absorbing every framed photograph that lined the narrow hallway Quil was carrying her through. Most of the pictures were of the same three boys, from toddlerhood to the obviously abrupt onset of phasing.

Quil angled their bodies through a doorway, placing Bella on the bathroom counter before rifling through cabinets for a washcloth, tweezers, and peroxide. He had many serious questions he wanted to ask Bella, but even Quil was observant enough to see that it wasn't the right time to ask.

"Y'know, Yoda," he crouched in front of her, lifting her leg and running the damp cloth gently over the bottom of her foot. "We're really gonna hafta work on teachin' you how to avoid being pummeled by – what'd you call us supernatural freaks again? Oh yeah – _mythics._"

He pulled several splinters from her feet in silence, cleaning the cuts with peroxide. The cuts were healing faster than they would on a normal person, but not as fast as the wolves.

_Add that to the list of serious questions._

He left her sitting in the bathroom as he lumbered into Embry's mother's bedroom, grateful that she worked nights, and retrieved a pair of hard-soled slippers for Bella. He slipped them on her feet for her and she snickered in response, but inwardly felt immensely lucky to know the goofy, softhearted, mass of muscle that was Quil.

Unthinking, he stripped his shorts as soon as they'd left the small house. It wasn't until he was bent at the waist, tying his shorts to his ankle, that he remembered Bella's presence behind him. Still bent over, he twisted his body to look at her. Her face had gone beet red, the color staining the skin on her neck and chest as well. Her hands were pressed tight over her eyes.

"OH. MY. GOD. _Please_ tell me you're covered in fur now. Please." The red was quickly draining from her face, making way for a shade of white Quil had never seen on a person's skin. He chuckled a little before phasing, yipping his response to her.

He knew instantly that Embry was still phased, but had at least finally gone to sleep. Paul was phased as well, not far from where Embry was. They kept their thoughts quiet, but there was no mistaking the joy and relief Paul's wolf felt when Quil turned to look at Bella before she climbed on his back.

_The true alpha's mate was safe and home._

Her absence had taken its toll on the entire pack - something that, admittedly, came as a shock to them all. In the span of but a few days she had carved a spot for herself in their pack and in their hearts, and not merely through her imprint with one of their own. Perhaps that was the most bewildering detail of all. The little pale face had become pack even before Embry imprinted on her.

Embry had not been able to phase back since she'd disappeared. His state of mind grew ever more frantic when he learned of her whereabouts, her condition, and who had helped her. He had irrationally blamed himself. And, though he tried not to show his pack mates, they had seen how critically inadequate he felt when he learned it had been a vampire that had come to her rescue. Not that he wasn't grateful. He truly was.

But he wasn't able to calm the feeling in the pit of his stomach that something simply wasn't right.

It had started as soon as they'd discovered there was a bloodsucker on tribal lands. The puzzle pieces clicked together in his mind, and he had figured out why the stench of the vampire in the parking lot of the roller rink had smelled so familiar. He had met it two nights prior in the woods.

_A fucking Cullen._

The entire pack had run back to La Push from Seattle, livid and ready to rip apart the local coven. And they may have done just that, starting with the blond doctor standing in Sam's yard, but they knew he must have had information about Bella.

Information, as it turned out, was not all he had. The wolves couldn't help but wonder if he had chosen not to bring Bella with him as means of insurance that they wouldn't kill him. Sam was worn thin, his own wolf's desire to shred the vampire in his yard overwhelming. But as acting alpha, to also have to force down the rest of the pack from doing so was excruciating. And the force behind the command Sam had had to place on the _true_ alpha to keep him away from the Cullen house nearly crippled himself, and was just barely unbreakable to Embry's wolf.

Dr. Cullen had directed his reassurances not to Embry, but instead, strangely, to Jacob, who could only nod his head in frustrated confusion. Nothing would reassure any of them until their alpha's mate was returned. But they couldn't dismiss the doctor's logic; he was the only one who could treat Bella's injuries without questions arising.

He vowed that once her injuries had mended, she would be free to return home. And he agreed to go along with the cover story Sam had concocted.

There was little choice left but to trust him.

Bella and Quil reached a clearing not far within the woods. And in that clearing, sleeping there upon a bed of damp moss was a wolf that looked like a larger, inversed version of Bella's. She studied the wolf from the opposite side of the clearing, unmoving from her spot on Quil's back as she felt both parts of herself – animal and human girl – relax at the mere sight.

Quil crouched and she slid from his back, taking a moment to run her palm over his muzzle. He turned, retreating from the area, but not going too far. He and Paul would keep watch of the surrounding woods, as they'd been doing while it was just Embry there.

From the other side of the clearing, still caught between a restless sleep and a painful awareness, Embry felt peace wash over him – the wolf and the human both soothed infinitesimally.

He felt her.

Knew she was near.

He opened his eyes, lifting his muzzle from the cool ground. For the first time in a very long time, he found himself thankful to be phased.

Because Bella was there, glowing beneath the pale light of the moon and agonizingly slowly closing the distance between them.

Wolves cannot weep. And he was certain that if he were Embry-the-man, he'd have fallen to his knees and done just that.

_A sign of weakness, when what she needed was his strength._

But as she reached him, lowering herself to the dew-covered earth and taking his furry face gently into her hands, he'd seen tears in her eyes and on her cheeks. Bella spoke no words to him, instead wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face deep into his pelt.

His mistake rushed through him like pins and needles.

_She needed _him_, not his strength._

It was something that would baffle him later. But there in that moment, the puzzlement of such a notion was barely a blip in his mind.

The wolf buzzed contentedly.

_Their mate was safe. Their mate was home. Their mate was loving and soft._

But the man needed more. The man needed her in his arms. The man needed to feel her on his skin. The man needed to soothe _her_ as she soothed _him._

He phased back, crouching awkward and naked, her arms still around him, her face pressed hard into his neck. He was covered in the dirt and grime of two days spent as a wolf, vulnerable and trembling.

But none of it mattered.

Because her arms were around him.

And she was there.

Bella was trembling too, tears running from her eyes and into the crook of his neck. She wasn't naked, but she was every bit as vulnerable. And she couldn't help her heart breaking every so slightly at the unadulterated desperation that rolled from him as his fingers fumbled over her back.

Embry did the only thing that could be done, abandoning all thought and every inhibition, acting on pure instinct.

He wrapped his arms tight around her, fingers frantically raking their way into her hair, his nose finding its way to her neck.

And he wept.

Not for long, and not as much as he could have, but enough so that the _everything_ of the previous days boiled over from him, spilling out in tears and sobs.

Anguish, love, relief, panic, happiness, heartbreak.

A lifetime of buried emotion, running out of him and into Bella's hair, washing away the scent of vampire.

* * *

**A/N:  
**And then a dragon swoops down from the sky and takes Bella away again, because these two can't possibly be having a moment of _peace_, right?! Hah! Kidding, y'all, kidding!

So then, thoughts? Feelings? Anyone?


	17. Yours Tonight

**A/N: **My biggest thanks to _meliz875_(who not only worked some **serious** magic with her amazing red pen skills, but also remedied my little bout of writer's block by providing me with some fantastic music), _Iamtwilightobsessed-MP_, and _Brain in the Gutter _for pre-reading this chapter and really making it what it is now.

**Suggested Listening:  
**The Microphones – I Felt Your Shape  
Iron & Wine – Such Great Heights  
Benjamin Francis Leftwich – Don't Go Slow

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen  
**_Yours Tonight  
_

_If my bones were wrapped around you  
If my skin was right in front of you  
Would you smile and close your eyes?  
I'm yours tonight_

* * *

When Embry woke, the sun had not yet come up. He was disoriented, mind still foggy from a deep and peaceful sleep, the first time he'd slept well in days. His eyes focused on the crack in his ceiling as the recollections from the previous night played out in high definition in his mind.

Bella had returned, coming to him in the night with the moon's silver light bouncing off her pale skin. At first, he thought she was a dream. A conjured vision of what the man, as well as the beast, so sorely desired. But then she'd crossed the void between them, and had healed his aching heart with just the softest touch of her hand.

Embry had phased back, his wolf sated simply in knowing that its mate was safe and home, and he had wrapped her in his arms. Clinging to him, Bella had soothed him, and for the first time in his life, Embry Call was focused on one thing and one thing alone.

_Pretty, pleasant, tender Bella Swan._

_Home._

There was no room for diffidence in his heart so filled with relief and exaltation. There was no room for second-guessing when her arms clenched unforgivingly around him. There was no room for uncertainties when, beneath the stench of vampire, the perfect little creature in his arms exuded only the gloriously sweet scent of peaches.

_Love._

There was not even room, there beneath the clear sky, for questioning how much of the love she felt was merely a side effect of his imprinting on her.

They had cried, neither one able to prevent their tears from spilling, bodies seeking out a physical comfort. And when Embry had tried to gently pull away, succumbing to the overwhelming need to see her face again, Bella had not tried to hide that she had no intentions of letting him go, reminding him with no subtlety of her impressive strength by wrapping her arms impossibly tighter and pulling him ever closer.

And, Christ, his heart had nearly exploded with delight and satisfaction. He couldn't stop the slight chuckle from tumbling out of his mouth and into her hair as he nodded his consent to simply hold and be held.

Embry had not made her let go, and made no further attempts to break their embrace. Instead, he had scooped Bella into his arms, grateful beyond reason just be able to do so. Carrying her through the forest, moonlight danced on his bare skin. Her face remained pressed to his neck and, naked beneath a blanket of stars, Embry had carried her back to his house. With his face dipped into her hair, which still held the stench of vampire, he followed the path to the brown house by memory and instinct.

There was much to talk about. They were both painfully aware of it. A thousand different things, words left unspoken, weighed heavy in the air.

So much.

_Too_ much.

_But not now. _Now was not the time for admissions or revelations. Now was not the time for words.

The silence that surged between them was easy and profound. There was no use for words when touch could convey everything they wanted to say, everything they each needed to hear, so much more fluently.

No words were offered. No verses were exchanged.

But fingers had clutched.

Tears had mingled.

Hearts had pounded in sync.

Bella was tucked carefully, tightly against him as he took her into his home; through the same hallway that Quil had carried her, and into the bathroom.

She noticed none of it; not the moonlight glittering through the leaves overhead as they made their way back to the small house, not the chill in the night air, not the difference between outdoors and indoors. Pressing her nose to him, she noticed only the scent of home, the warmth of his skin wherever it touched hers, and the calm that swept through her and washed away all traces of anxiety.

Pushing her body tighter against Embry's, she relished the feeling, wishing for more contact with his flesh. The fabric of the torn gown she wore irritated his skin, inflaming his flesh with the sensation of steel wool, despite the obvious fact that it was intended to be luxurious. It did not go unnoticed by either imprint that their skin tingled and hummed wherever it met the other's, goose bumps prickling at the contact points.

Like Quil, Embry placed Bella on the counter beside the bathroom sink, lingering a moment before reaching behind his neck and curling sure fingers around her wrists. Unlocking her grip from him, he brought her cold fingers to his warm lips, offering gentle pecks to each tip. His breath spilled out, heavy and hot over her flesh. When he opened his eyes, he was overwhelmed by the view before him.

Brown eyes met brown eyes.

Longing met longing.

Love met love.

Holding his gaze, her face was a mirror of his emotions.

Bella's eyes moved from his, the corner of his mouth rising discernibly. Placing her hands in her lap, he lifted his own hands, calloused and still crusted with mud from the forest, to her tear-streaked cheeks. Watching his thumbs leave dark trails on Bella's creamy skin, he marveled at the beauty of it, eyes finally landing at her lips.

Halting any thoughts that didn't include Bella Swan's mouth.

God, he _ached_ to kiss her again. It was all so vivid in his memory—the honeyed taste of her hot mouth, the way her tongue felt as it moved against his. But as Embry leaned forward, dark eyes focused on a plump, pink target, the stale scent of vampire drifted into his flared nostrils, emanating from the petite body sitting in front of him.

Bella watched Embry in the darkness of the bathroom, his broad shoulders rising and falling as he tilted his head and turned away from her. She studied the curve of his spine as he bent slightly over the bathtub to turn on the water and put the stopper in the drain. Eyes exploring the unflawed skin before her, Bella's gaze dipped below Embry's waist to drink in the surprising display of even more copper flesh.

Too wrapped up in overwhelming moments, she had failed to notice his nudity. But she more than made up for the lost minutes, unable to stop her gaze from lingering on the very places that should have made her blush.

He could feel her eyes on him.

_A breath of fresh air._

It swept over his backside like a cool, crisp sheet on a hot summer night. Almost simultaneously the scent of her arousal, intoxicating and unmistakable, swirled around his head with the rising steam from the bath.

Goose bumps erupting over her skin, Bella could sense the shift in the air despite her growing warmth. She watched as Embry straightened, muscles tensed, straining tight against his dark skin.

They could hear the amplified speed of the other's heartbeat as he turned to face her again, smoldering black eyes locking on her, their shared torn soul burning for completion. His eyes were darker than Bella remembered them, his blazing stare heating her from the inside out.

Warming her to the bone.

Making her blood boil as it ran scorching through her veins.

Standing mere feet away, his hands trembled at his sides, studying her dirt-streaked face. Her eyes stayed locked on his for a moment before traveling down his shoulders, his chest, his stomach. They lingered at his lower abdomen, her face a picture of embarrassment and excitement, before darting swiftly to the very proof of what she did to him.

_Erection._

Bella bit hard into her lower lip to keep from laughing as the word flashed into her mind. But as quickly as she found herself amused, she was brought back to the reality of _him. _And he was standing only feet away.

_Erect. _The word suddenly became very serious, very erotic as she related it to the magnificent man baring himself to her.

_Erect._

_Because of her._

Bella swallowed hard against the growing lump in her throat. Apart from herself, and perhaps her mother when she was much younger, she had never seen anyone naked.

And certainly not _erect_.

Her cheeks flushed, and Embry's nose was once again assaulted by a fresh surge of Bella's heady scent. Before he could make up his mind or register what he was doing, his feet were already in motion. He was inches away from Bella, hands trembling over her shoulders. The thin straps of her nightgown burned his palms as he slipped the delicate material away, fingers tumbling nervously over the exposed skin of the adorable girl from the airport. The very girl he'd told himself was out of his league.

_His imprint._

Bella shivered under his touch, his fingers branding perfect trails across her cold skin. She studied Embry's face, eyes burning through her shoulder, his gaze following the nightgown strap's path down her arm. Fingers ghosting their retreat, he covered her shoulders once more with his hands before slipping down her chest, hesitating at the hem of her gown. He blinked, falling into her eyes as soon as his opened. One finger plunged below the material, slipping between her breasts and triggering a catch in Bella's breathing. Eyes never leaving hers, Embry curled his finger into the cloth and pulled, leaving a heated line from the place between her breasts to her belly button.

At once, they leaned into each other. His lips found hers, the space between them slowly disappearing into the swirls of steam from the running bath water. Words were unnecessary, his mouth moving against hers with careful hunger, each small kiss a tender dedication, a promise of something profound and desperate. Bella, so lost in his full licorice lips, barely noticed being hoisted from the countertop until the cold tile of the bathroom floor met the bottoms of her still-healing feet, soothing the ache and numbing the small cuts.

Fingers grazing over her shoulder blades and down her back, Embry took a step back, their lips separating. Bella watched as he knelt before her, his fingers clutching the hem of the nightgown, now at her hips. Tugging once more, he released the cloth, letting it pool at her feet, the steam from the tub kissing her exposed milky skin.

Embry stared.

It couldn't be helped. Any male of sound mind would have stared at the beautiful creature in front of him. Still not able to tear his eyes away, he supposed that most men would not become so fixated with said beautiful creature's belly button.

But there, dark against the creamy white of her skin, was a freckle inside Bella Swan's belly button.

And fuck if it wasn't the most adorable goddamn thing Embry Call had ever seen in his life.

It was the sound that came from Embry's throat – something between laughter and choking – that had Bella's worried hands at either side of his face, soft thumbs tracing over his ears as she gently tilted his head back. His eyes broke away from the freckle, traveling the length of her torso and over the perfect swells of her pink-tipped breasts, her collarbone, her neck, until he was staring once again.

But this time in awe of the beautiful _everything_.

Never would it have occurred to Embry Call to dare to hope that Bella Swan was staring at him with still perfectly mirrored fascination. It left him entirely breathless to see her, exquisitely exposed in every sense in the dark of his unlit bathroom, doing just exactly that.

Bent before Bella was the most astonishing and perfect example of a man she could ever have imagined, all muscles and copper skin, eyes running deep with wisdom beyond their years. Calloused hands. Stubbled chin. Her eyes danced over those muscles, rippling fluidly beneath that warm flesh. Her hands cradled that clenched, defined jaw. Her skin puckered beneath those rough, clutching, knowing hands. Her entire being felt the warmth from being observed by those wise, deep eyes.

"Embry..." Her shaky whisper rang out against the thick silence. A lover's beckon to which Embry responded by running fingers up Bella's sides, navigating their way over ribs.

He was on fire, a slow burn from the inside out, and he was certain he'd never wanted anything more than he wanted the girl in front of him.

And from within, where the wolf always lurked close to the surface whenever its mate was concerned, was the urge to claim and to possess, an urge only intensified by the fading but persistent scent of vampire. Stronger still, and surprising to him if he was truthful, was the urge to be claimed and possessed equally.

Keeping his eyes locked on Bella's, he rose to his full height, towering over her and forcing her to either tilt her head or break their gaze. She chose to tilt her head, exposing her neck to Embry in doing so.

_Submitting to her mate. _

It was a gesture his wolf welcomed with a soft rumble deep in his chest and, in unison, man and beast stepped forward, pressing fully against Bella's skin.

_Home._

She blushed, heat rushing simultaneously to her face and between her legs, feeling _all_ of him. Legs entwined with legs, strong hands drawing circles over her bare back, his warmth against her breasts, his unyielding length pressed against her stomach.

Dragging his nose against her neck, Embry inhaled all he could of her before latching onto her earlobe with his teeth. In his arms, Bella shook, her knees giving out. She squeaked, body erupting in chills and flames, writhing against Embry's frame when she felt liquid fire pooling within her.

Reacting to her, he pressed her petite frame closer to him, moving Bella until her back was against the cool wall, a sharp contrast to his hot embrace. His teeth moved from her ear to her neck, making his way down her collarbone, cataloging her reactions.

And when he hoisted her up, her feet dangling only for a moment before her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, Bella hardly recognized the voice that came from her throat in a long, soft, quivering moan.

It wasn't what she had intended, the position she'd placed them in. She hadn't been thinking. She was still not thinking, for that matter. All she could do was _feel. _And all she felt was _him against her._

_Hot._

_Throbbing._

Squirming, she relished the new, most intimate sensations. She rubbed herself against one side of his length, now slick from her own arousal, feeling powerful and satisfied when the motion triggered Embry's gasps and deep groans. She ground against him, fingers clutching tight to his shoulders as the heat inside her built.

Had Embry been thinking clearly, things would never have gotten so far so quickly. But he wasn't thinking clearly. He couldn't. Not when his nostrils were so flooded with the scent of her arousal. Not when he had just gotten her back. Not when their imprint was so new and so fresh and so unconsummated and all consuming. Not when Bella Swan was naked and wriggling against him, her heat and silky succulence driving him wild and tempting him to thrust into her instead of against her.

Embry dipped his head, his lips traveling down Bella's sternum and over soft tissue until they found a puckered pink tip and latched on.

It was too much. Bella bucked against Embry, arching her back and letting loose a whispered cry. As the liquid fire flooding deep within her spilled over, so did the warm water from the bathtub beside them. And before Embry could prevent it from happening, he spilled himself, shooting hot streams between their bodies. He kept her there, pinned between his shivering body and the wall.

He was scared to look at Bella, scared to see regret in her eyes. Scared to see rejection there.

Beside them, water still rushed from the tub, trickling onto the tiled floor and pooling at Embry's feet. His face was still at her breast, her legs still wrapped around his waist. She could smell the salty evidence of what they'd done, a physical proof to banish any doubt that she'd fantasized it all, now slithering down her stomach. She could feel his heart, still beating frantic in his chest. The distress rolling off of him.

Unlatching her fingernails from his shoulders, Bella moved her unsteady hands to his head, finding purchase in his debris-filled hair. She tugged, savoring his body's reaction to it even now, a silent plea to meet her eyes.

A tremor running through his body, Embry complied, turning his neck to look into the pretty face of his imprint. What he found there surprised him, stealing away the breath he'd been holding. What he found there was neither regret nor rejection, but instead a genuine smile.

She glanced toward the overflowing bathtub, a breathless laugh escaping her grinning lips. Following her gaze, his own small laugh – more a release of nerves than amusement – joined hers as he lowered her to the floor.

He bent, one hand finding hers and tangling fingers together as he used the other to turn off the faucet. Turning back to Bella, he was harshly reminded of his reason for running the bath in the first place. Her body against his, Embry had forgotten his own filth and hadn't even smelled the stench of vampire on her. But now, skin apart from skin, the sweet scent of decay was once again pungent in the bathroom. And Bella's skin, moist from steam and sweat, was streaked in the filth that covered him.

_She couldn't have looked more perfect_.

Still holding her hand, Embry stepped into the tub, tugging her in with him. Bella was unable to hold in her laughter, the sound warming his heart, as he tried to fit his massive frame into a sitting position in the tub. After several failed attempts, he barely managed to fit, sending most of the tub's water spilling over the edge and onto the floor. Pulling her down, he peered at her over his awkwardly bent knees before giving up the struggle to hold in his laughter.

He laughed until he felt slender fingers at his ankles beneath the water. They climbed to his knees, moving to elbows and up arms, until her hands met each other at the back of his neck. She leaned into his legs, her nipples grazing against his skin. She met Embry's gaze, one of his eyebrows lifting as her hands worked behind his head, fumbling with handles until the shower head blasted them with water that was luckily still warm. Bella smiled, water splattering across her face.

And Embry kissed her, deep and slow, her hair falling around their faces under the weight of the water.

She stood first. It was easier for her, and though they kept their shower mostly business, the two shifters were both painfully aroused by the time they'd finished. Embry wrapped Bella in a towel and threw the rest from the cupboard onto the flooded bathroom floor.

The pair of imprints crawled into his too-small bed, Bella settling in atop his broad chest. Where she kneaded her fingertips into his flesh in a very feline fashion, leaving small crescent-shaped indentations. Eyes growing heavy, she yawned, rubbing her face over his thumping heartbeat. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was aware that when morning came, her insecurities and apprehensions might catch up to her.

But there in her imprint's bed, with the pale moonlight sweeping through a small window and casting its silver glow over Embry's copper skin, she couldn't find it in herself to be anything less than utterly content. She would face her uncertainties in the morning. She would face Embry with honesty and give him the choice he deserved. She would face the pack's questions. She would face Charlie. She would face an impending war. She would do it all.

But not now.

_Tomorrow._

She inched her way up Embry's chest until her face was pressed into his neck, nuzzling into a patch of prickly stubble. His hair was still damp and water dripped onto Bella's nose. She felt his warm breath fan out across her shoulder, absorbed by the thin material of his t-shirt.

Beneath her, Embry trembled. He hadn't _stopped_ trembling. Every doubt he failed to feel before now crushed him. Wrapping his arms tight around Bella, he blew out an anxious breath. After what had happened between them, he couldn't help feeling as if he'd taken advantage of her, of _what_ she was to him. And even though he didn't question his feelings for his pretty little airport girl, it terrified him to think that hers were only a product of his imprint on her. Embry opened his mouth, unable to keep it from her any longer, unwilling to take her choice away from her any more than it had. But before he could speak, she'd nuzzled into his neck.

"Embry?" Her voice was hoarse and sleepy. His was lost in his throat, so he nodded against her hair. She snuffed a small giggle into his throat. "Just wanted to say I really…" she yawned. "… _really_ like you."

He blew out another breath, hugging her even closer, maybe trying to press her right into his skin.

_Tomorrow. _He would tell her tomorrow.

Bella yawned one last time, murmuring nonsense words into Embry's neck to which he chuckled deep and rich, running his fingers over her spine and resting his hands at the small of her back. Her legs sprawled to either side of her handsome wolf boy, she could feel the solid proof of his desire for her between them. With a teasing wriggle and an unintentional purr, she drifted into a deep sleep.

And in her dreams, she walked with a giant gray wolf that smelled and felt like home. The monsters were there too. She could feel them all around, the weight of their eyes heavy in her chest.

But they didn't dare come near.

* * *

**A/N: **Very first "lemon slice" as a writer, y'all! Let me know how I did! How do you all think these two will do when the morning comes and their minds are maybe a little clearer?


	18. Stand By Me -- C&D OUTTAKE

**A/N: **So. It's been a while, guys! Yes, I am still around. No, I haven't forgotten about this story or any of you. But I have gotten CRAZY busy, and this story has sadly taken the backseat to many other things. I still work on it - daily, in fact. But not much gets done. And then I go back and read what _has_ gotten done, and haven't yet been particularly satisfied with any of it. Until this. I'm calling this an outtake, rather than a chapter, because of its length (less than 1000 words) and because it's from Jacob's POV. It's not much, I know. Especially considering how long I've gone without posting anything. But I hope you all enjoy it. And I promise I haven't given up on this story. But until things calm down in my RL, chapters may be few and far between. I do so hope you will stick around though. Such a lot left to this story :)

* * *

**Stand By Me  
**_Jacob's POV_

* * *

_Pack._

The word echoed through Jacob Black's mind as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

_Family._

Rolling his eyes, he brought his fists behind his head to punch either side of his worn pillow. It'd been days since his father's revelation. Days since those words – four simple words, fired at him like bullets from a gun – had been spoken.

_Embry is my son._

It hadn't been mentioned again, father and son avoiding one another at all costs. Quite a feat, considering the size of their house. But it ate away at Jacob, the heavy tension in their home. Unbearable for the boy who had always considered his father his hero, his best friend.

And for the third time in Jacob Black's life, he felt as if his world was crumbling around him.

The first time had been just after his mother's death. As family and friends surrounded the Blacks, he'd been told countless times he'd have to step up, be a big, strong boy, help his sisters and his dad.

He'd just wanted his mommy. And hadn't understood any of it.

Still, little Jacob Black had done his best.

On the morning of his mother's funeral, he'd gotten up before anyone else. He'd dressed himself in the suit Sue Clearwater had laid on the foot of his bed for him, careful to do his shoelaces, as well as his necktie, in double knots. He'd brushed his hair and his teeth, making sure to wipe away the toothpaste that had dribbled onto his jacket. And when his father and sisters had rushed into the kitchen, having been awakened by the sound of crashing pots and pans, he'd greeted them with the very best smile he could muster and plates heaped with half-cooked runny eggs and piles of Cookie Crisp.

That morning was the first time Jacob had really understood that things would never be the same.

Standing in the middle of the kitchen, egg and toothpaste on his suit, his eyes filled with tears as his father, having been startled awake from the only sleep he'd had in days, scolded him for the mess he'd made. Little Jacob Black had held back his tears, still trying to be stronger than he really was, and ran far away from the little red house as soon as his father had left the kitchen.

_Embry is your brother._

Embry had been the one to find him that day, sitting behind a fallen tree in the woods and trying to scrub dried egg from his pants with a leaf. The other boy hadn't asked any questions, or tried to coax Jake home. After studying his friend for a moment, Embry had sat beside him, back resting against the log as he picked up a leaf of his own and began swiping it across the spot of toothpaste on Jacob's discarded jacket. And when it had come time for the funeral, Embry refused to leave Jacob's side, standing beside him throughout the ceremony, arm slung over Jake's shoulder.

_Pack._

The second time Jacob had felt his world topple in around him was the moment he'd phased for the first time. He had been saving his money for months for a part for his car. But his father's wheelchair was in dire need of replacing too, and his sisters had been taking turns badgering him to chip in for it. He'd been in the midst of arguing with Rachel on the telephone, knuckles going white around the receiver, when Billy had rolled into the room. Pausing mid-yell, his eyes had fixed to the cracked plastic handles and the various duct-taped spots of his father's wheelchair.

_Family._

Jacob Black had never been so angry. Looking at his father, the great Quileute chief, in a chair held together by tape, he'd felt ashamed of himself for being so selfish. The anger that had been growing as he spoke to his sister quickly shifted inward, his hand clenching at the receiver of the phone until it shattered in his grip.

That had been the last straw – one more thing he'd broken, one more way he'd failed his family.

His body had changed then, pain splintering through every muscle and every bone. Giant clawed feet scarcely missed his father as they thudded to the floor. Billy's face had gone pale, his mouth agape. When Jacob, confused and scared, tried to speak, to question his father, only growls and barks came out.

_Embry._

The voice of his estranged friend, calm and reassuring in Jacob's mind, had been the first thing he'd heard after phasing, advising him to be still, to hold on. Realizing that his son was no longer about to maul him, Billy had opened the back door and Jacob had fled the small house. Through their connected minds, though Jacob didn't understand it at the time, he knew Embry was waiting for him in the woods. He'd made his way, on four feet instead of two, to the same fallen tree he'd hidden behind on the day of Sarah Black's funeral. There, lying on the damp forest floor with its massive head on its paws was a gray wolf, bigger than any he'd ever seen. And in his mind, through Embry's eyes, he saw an enormous russet wolf.

Embry didn't leave his side. For six days, the two hunted, slept, and ran together.

_Brother._

The word brought a small smile to Jacob's lips.

Of course they were brothers.

They had _never_ been anything less than brothers.

It was a conflict of emotions – the happiness of gaining a brother and the very foreign sense of disappointment in his father - Jacob knew would not be resolved until he'd spoken to Billy.

Giving his pillow one last punch, Jacob turned in his small bed and fell asleep vowing to break the silence between his father and himself in the morning.

_Maybe over eggs and Cookie Crisp._


End file.
